A Simple Reminder
by SpaceSpirit
Summary: It's been a tough month for International Rescue and tensions are beginning to wear thin among the boys. With Jeff missing, everything just seems to be going wrong. Gordon takes a step to try and bring the team back together, but could it just end in more disaster for the family?
1. Chapter 1

_Note: This story is set after Jeff has gone missing and the boys are struggling with not having him around. It focuses on all the boys and their relationships, as well as Gordon re-evaluating his place in the family. Please excuse any technical mistakes on my part. This is intended to be multi-chapter and I'll upload as soon as possible._ _It is technically a fic of the reboot TAG series, but it has elements of the original, and could be read as such. I do not own the Thunderbirds or the boys, but I'd like to use them now and again. I really hope you enjoy!_

 _ooooo_

Gordon Tracy was tired.

Not the kind of tired he felt waking up for a swim every morning. No, he could deal with that. A simple jump into the pool and he was cured of any longing to crawl back beneath his blankets. But now, as the klaxon rang through the house, all he wanted was to pull the cover back over his head and ignore it.

So that's what he did. He curled up and buried himself beneath the cotton. Yet even with a blanket over his head it still didn't stop that _damn_ sound. Gordon had always hated that alarm. In fact, he was pretty sure they all did. Now that dad was gone they should change it. Instead they should blast terrible archaic music through a loud speaker. That would force Virgil- who was most fond of his sleep, and wouldn't be able to bear the offense on his musical taste- to get up and answer the distress call instead of leaving it to the rest of them all the time.

The klaxon stopped ringing and Gordon sighed in relief. Perhaps it had been a false alarm, or maybe Gordon simply wasn't needed. He popped his head out of the suffocating embrace of his bedspread and tried to get comfortable again.

John put an end to that comfort. His blue holographic form lit up the room, forcing Gordon to open his eyes. There was no greeting on John's part, but instead one of his usual blunt statements. It wasn't that John was uncaring at all, he just hated small talk. "You're needed in the lounge for debrief."

Gordon yawned loudly, pushing himself up by his elbow so he appeared _slightly_ alert. "Mornin' to you too Johnny."

"Morning," There was no humour on John's face that morning as he waited patiently for Gordon to get up. In fact, Gordon's second eldest brother looked just as tired as Gordon felt. _Damn_ , they probably all did. It had been one hell of a week. A wry smile changed his brothers appearance completely, "Well, only just."

Gordon glanced at his clock. Half past one. _Great._ He'd been asleep for approximately three hours. What a way to start the day.

John clicked off after making sure Gordon wasn't going to fall back asleep. Gordon half-heartedly pulled on clothes, making sure to wear his brightest shirt of all in case his brothers needed help waking up. Footsteps on the landing outside his room alerted Gordon to the fact he wasn't the only one up late.

Gordon slipped out of his room and made his way downstairs. Virgil, rubbing his eyes tiredly, was just sitting down when he reached the lounge. Alan was only half dressed; obviously thinking he would just get changed into his uniform in the chutes instead. Gordon wondered why he hadn't thought of that. Scott, who looked like he'd been up for hours, stopped pacing the room when Gordon arrived and snapped his fingers towards him. The only evidence of it being too early was his slightly skewed and ruffled brown hair. "Did you not hear the alarm?"

Gordon slid down next to Alan. He was _not_ in the mood for a lecture from brother number one. Especially since that brother had been barking orders at him for the last twelve hours. "Nope," Gordon stretched his arms out and placed them behind his head. "I did. How could I _not_ hear that thing?"

Scott just rolled his eyes. "That's the _purpose_ of it Gords. You're supposed to get _up_ when you hear it."

"But this is an unreasonable time for a rescue," Gordon said in mock seriousness. "Can't we just call them back and ask them to put it on hold for a while? Postpone the disaster for a few hours while we sleep."

Gordon wasn't surprised when he didn't get a laugh. Hell, he didn't even get a smile. It seemed even Alan was too tired to appreciate his _quality_ humour. _Tough crowd._ Ah well, there was plenty more where that came from.

John's portrait lit up and in seconds his hologram was back. "Alright we've got a major earthquake in New Zealand. It hit the capital of Wellington ten minutes ago. Even though most of the buildings there are secure and earthquake proof, one of the poorer suburbs wasn't as well checked out. We've got collapsed buildings and trapped people around the epicenter."

"So we definitely need 'Two then." Virgil said, already on his feet. The exhaustion on his face had been masked by an expression of determination. Gordon smiled. There was nothing like a rescue to sober them all up. Even if it was the rescuing that was making them all tired.

"By the looks of it they'll need all of you." John said, studying something they couldn't see. Gordon felt his heart sink a little. It wasn't often that he would turn down a rescue, but now he could _really_ use a break. "This area is prone to aftershocks so we'll need to move fast and get as many people out as possible. There's no salvaging the buildings so we're primarily there for people recovery and evac. I'll send the co-ordinates to you now."

"FAB John." As John clicked away, Scott was already moving towards 'One's entrance. His lips were pulled tight and his face was grim, no doubt thinking what they were all thinking. _How many natural disasters could there possibly be in one week?_ Somebody had obviously done something to anger Mother Nature. Scott switched from brother mode to commander. _Or was he always in commander mode these days?_ Sure felt like it. Then again he hadn't really had time to lapse out of it. "Ok Alan and Gordon you're with Virg. We'll assemble the pod when we get there and see what we need. I'll see you in the danger zone."

"FAB." With that, another rescue was under way.

ooooo

The hum of Thunderbird Two had almost lulled Gordon back to sleep. They glided along through the night sky, pushing through the low hanging clouds that were in their way. Stars twinkled above them, the lights of Thunderbird Five undoubtedly among them.

Gordon somewhat envied his space loving brother. Sure, he must have been up every second answering calls and checking statuses, but he didn't actually have to _do_ anything. Gordon kicked himself as the thought arose. _John did a damn site more than he did._ Aside from Scott he was probably the one to work the hardest. And he had to live in freaking _space._ Gordon shuddered. The deep, beautiful expanse of the ocean he could handle. But space? Space he could not.

" _Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two, I am nearing the danger zone. ETA?"_

Virgil cleared his throat, jolting himself out of the thought he'd been engrossed in. "Alright Scott. ETA fifteen minutes."

 _"_ _Make it ten, would you Virgil?"_

"I'll see what I can do."

Gordon bit back a retort, frustration bubbling inside of him. There was something about the commanding tone in his eldest brother's voice that had begun to grate against his nerves. Maybe it was because he had been subjected to it more often these past days. Obviously neither of the others were feeling the same way, or at least they were good at hiding it.

Alan yawned loudly from the seat behind them. For once he wasn't his usual exuberant _'I get to go on a rescue'_ self. Today it was more of a whiney self. "Didn't we just do an earthquake yesterday?"

"Yes but that was in Taiwan," Virgil kept his eyes straight ahead. "Just because one area has one, doesn't mean the rest of the world is suddenly immune."

"I _know_ that." Alan pouted.

"Then why did you _ask_?"

Gordon tilted his head at Virgil. Lack of sleep sure made him _grumpy_. "Actually, it was Wednesday we did Taiwan," Gordon said brightly, turning around to face Alan. "Remember? Monday was the hurricane; Tuesday was the mine collapse and that Tsunami. Wednesday was Taiwan, yesterday was the bush fire in Australia and the oil spill."

Alan blinked. "Oh and _I_ had to fix that satellite too, remember? It's all blurring into one."

" _Tell_ me about it. Hopefully we'll get Sunday off."

Alan screwed up his nose, "Why Sunday?"

Gordon placed his hands together in a false prayer. "Sunday's a day of rest Alan. Even disasters should respect that."

Alan snorted and shook his head.

"Hey you can't complain about this," Virgil interjected, shoulders tensing as he tried to pick up speed with 'Two. "You complain about _not_ going on rescues, now we've got loads and you're still complaining."

"That's Alan for you," Gordon teased, but he frowned at his older brother's tone. The artist was normally such a peaceful soul- though he certainly didn't look it- that Gordon wasn't used to hearing him snap. But he knew better than to ask about it. No doubt Virgil was lost in one of his deep and poetic thoughts and Alan's annoying voice kept drawing him out of it. Or he was just _tired._ That was the simple option.

"Hey!" Alan protested. "I wasn't _complaining._ I was just _saying._ We've been busy, that's all. I mean, I'm totally down for rescuing people at one in the morning..." he hesitated, but a determined gleam filled those blue eyes, "even if it's every day for the rest of my life."

Virgil's frown softened on hearing this, and his shoulders visibly relaxed. Gordon laughed. "I don't think a ninety year old Alan is going to be useful to anybody."

"Hey, Grandma's still useful."

"Grandma _isn't_ ninety."

"Oh yeah I didn't mean-" Alan winced; staring at the coms like Ruth Tracy would just appear before them with a punishing plate of cookies. Thankfully she wasn't up yet. That was one good thing about it being early. "Imagine us still functioning when we're all that old," Alan chuckled at the thought.

"Imagine us functioning next _week,_ " Gordon turned back towards the sky. "I don't know about you but I'm about ready to retire."

"Yeah, your hairs going grey already," Alan noted.

"Hey, only Scott gets premature grey hairs."

"That's because he's got four of us to stress about. You've got no excuse."

"I have _you_ , remember? You're the worst of them all."

"I am _not._ "

"Are too."

Virgil groaned and tried to increase speed again.

"You know what 'Two needs Virg?" Gordon asked, leaning forward in his co-pilot seat. He was beginning to feel the familiar lick of excitement return at the prospect of a rescue. Yeah, it was a land rescue, but it was nice to get out of the sub once in a while. Heck, who was he kidding? Gordon would _live_ in the sub if he could. But a land rescue was still better than anything to do with _space._

"Nothing. She's gorgeous as she is." Virgil glared at him, wary of an incoming insult to his baby, "and don't go on about painting her a different colour again-"

"Chill man, I was just going to say a coffee machine."

Virgil's dark eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"Like an inbuilt one, with cup holders and everything. It would make mornings with you far more bearable."

Gordon's remark got the desired result as a smile tugged its way onto Virgil's lip. "Yeah, and no doubt you'd have spilled it on the dashboard in seconds."

"Hey," Gordon cocked his head toward the back seat. "Alan's the clumsy one."

Alan drew in an enraged breath. "I am not!"

"Am too!"

Virgil rolled his eyes at his little brothers. He tapped the com and John appeared, his small figure floating by the helm. "Everything alright Virg?" John asked.

"Depends on your definition of 'alright,'" Virgil grumbled. "Any updates on what Pod we're going to need to assemble?"

"It's looking like Firefly at the moment, maybe the DOMO. But mainly out of vehicle action if you ask me."

"Alright John, thanks."

"No problem. Oh and guys?"

"Hmm."

The hint of wariness that flittered into John's voice was no exactly reassuring. "Be careful out there."

ooooo

The great thing about Jeff Tracy had been that no matter how bad things were going, he would always remain _calm._ He wouldn't freak out, or start screaming in their ears, he had _trusted_ them. Sure he was a pretty hard commander, but at the end of the day, Gordon understood why.

Especially now.

Gordon and Virgil were treading through a building that was soon to be a heap of twisted metal and stone. After doing all they could to stabilize it, including using the DOMO to prop up the collapsing doorway, they had entered. It was the third building they had been in charge of, and so far everything had been going well. The aftershocks had been hitting frequently every fifteen minutes, which meant they had to focus on stabling all the damaged buildings before they could get anyone out.

They had done that with the last building, making it safe as possible, but none of the other rescue outfits at the scene had been given clearance to enter. This one was still pretty rickety. So it was up to International Rescue to put their advanced equipment to use.

But another aftershock and this whole thing was going down, so they had to be quick.

It wasn't helping that they were being _told_ that every damn second.

 _"_ _Have you found any survivors yet?"_ Scott's low voice crackled into the air. The sense of urgency was unmistakable.

Gordon coughed loudly, hinting that he couldn't yet _see._ Dust filled the air, still not settling from the last shake. It was like walking through a sandstorm. Headgear sheltered their eyes and throats from the particles, but the people trapped in the building wouldn't be so lucky. John's scan had told them five people were trapped in this one. Gordon focused on that. _Five people._

"Not yet Scott," Virgil barely managed to keep the irritation from his tone. "Once we do we'll get them out. Don't worry."

" _Alright just do it quickly. It's a huge risk being in there."_

Gordon rolled his eyes. Virgil grinned, knowing they were thinking the same thing _, like it wasn't a huge risk where Scott was too._ As much as he tried to sound calm, Scott couldn't keep the worry from his tone. It was just a thing that went with being the eldest. Thankfully Gordon only had one younger brother, and Alan was in charge of directing survivors once they were out of the buildings. At least that wasn't _too_ dangerous.

"We stabilized the building Scott." Virgil stepped over a fallen beam, gesturing for Gordon to go in the opposite direction. Gordon mock saluted his brother and turned around, deciding to head toward an archway that led to another room. His brother's voices stayed with him however. It was now more of a hindrance than a comfort.

" _Sure, for now. But another knock and those are dust too."_

"Yeah alright," this time Virgil did snap. "Give us fifteen minutes and then we'll be out."

 _"_ _You might have to make it ten Virgil,"_ John's voice entered the scene. Gordon groaned, trying to focus on what he was doing. _People._ Find the people. _How angry would Scott be if he switched the coms off?_ Pretty damn angry. Gordon sighed and kept them on. He walked carefully into the room to find what looked like a kitchen. Beams and tiles had fallen through the roof, making it almost impossible to see the floor. A whimper rose from beneath a table.

" _Ok._ " Virgil said. Gordon wondered how he wasn't telling them to shut up. Gordon very dearly wished to do that but thought it might scare the source of the whimper. "Ten minutes, then we're out."

Gordon got to his knees so he could peer beneath the table. A pale young boy lay in the embrace of a girl, presumably his sister. The boy had a gash in his forehead, blood dripping down the front of his face. Other than that they looked ok. _School taught them well._ Get under the table or doorway was the only thing Gordon could remember from primary school. At least it was useful for something.

"Hi there, I'm from international rescue," Gordon said softly to make sure he didn't startle them. The boy's eyes grew at his statement, "I'm gonna get you out of here." He buzzed the coms, "Virg I've got two kids. I'll bring them out and then come back through."

"FAB Gords." Virgil's quick reply was calming.

 _"_ _Be quick about it."_ Scott's wasn't so much.

Slowly and carefully Gordon coaxed the children out from under the table. After doing preliminary check to make sure he wouldn't hurt them by moving them further, he picked up the boy and led the girl by the hand. They maneuvered their way through the haze of particles, Gordon making sure to lead them through the most stable part of the building. He knew he was going too slowly, but these were just kids, they were shaken and terrified. He wasn't about to bark at them to hurry up.

Eventually they got back to the doorway which was being propped up. It was the only way in and out of the building now. Placing the children in the arms of the awaiting medical crew, Gordon swiftly turned back inside.

He was halted by a small voice, "Are mummy and daddy ok?" The young girl was asking the paramedic she had been led too. He and Gordon shared a glance. _No, but they will be._ Gordon went back inside.

 _"_ _Found the father and Grandmother Gords."_ Virgil's voice filled the static air. Gordon continued to walk back toward the archway. " _There are a few beams in the way so I'm going to have to shift them with the Jaws. But they don't seem injured in anyway, just trapped."_

"FAB." Gordon pushed his concern away. Virgil could handle himself. For a few precious minutes Gordon merely found himself wandering through crumbling rooms. Then he remembered they were international freaking _rescue._ Calling John up on his watch Gordon swore for not thinking earlier. "Johnny boy, can you pin point exactly where the last person in this house is?"

John nodded and began swiping at an invisible screen. Gordon's space walking brother looked more tired than before, no doubt having to deal with multiple concern calls while also helping out those on the ground. "Back of the house Gords, just one room over from you. Make it quick bud."

"Thanks space walker," Gordon swiped him away. With the lithe form of a swimmer, he darted his way around beams and fallen debris, trying to find this allusive doorway. Once discovering it he shot into the room. It was dark, a beam having fallen in and covering the only small window. There was a small bed in one corner, the pink bedspread now splattered with grit and grime. The second bed was squashed completely.

Then he saw her, lying in the middle of the floor. One of her arms was trapped beneath a steel beam, her legs buried beneath debris from the roof. Blood streamed through her dark hair. _She must have raced in here to save her kids._ Gordon cursed and got to his knees. He tried talking to her but she was unresponsive. The faint beat of a pulse was there, but only barely. He clicked on coms again, "I'm gonna need medical in here Al, can you send someone through?"

Alan's light voice was quick to answer. " _No can do Gordon. The medics still haven't got clearance to enter. Officials think it's still too dangerous._ "

"Well I'm in here!" Gordon hadn't meant to yell. He took a deep breath. "Listen there's a lady here, she's stuck pretty badly. I can get her out but I don't want to move her in case I hurt her any more. So I'm going to need medical."

 _"_ _Gords, there's nothing I can do. Get Virg to give her a check and move her together. I'll have medical waiti- on second thoughts Gords, move her yourself and get out. Fifteen minutes is up._ "

Gordon gritted his teeth and said nothing more. He turned back to the woman before beginning to lift the steel bar. _Nobody got left behind._ But then he felt a tremble in the earth. A light fall of dust cascaded from the roof.

Hurrying, Gordon strained as he shifted the pole away from her arm. Heart pounding, he shifted further down to begin clearing some of the rubble away from her legs. _I'll get you back to your kids, don't you worry._

" _Gordon, you need to get out of there._ " Scott's voice blasted through to Gordon pushing past the sound of blood pounding in his ears.

"Just another minute Scott, I've almost got her-"

 _"_ _No Gordon, now. That's an order._ "

"Hang on, hang on-" Gordon shifted the last piece of debris away. Now he had to pull her out. _Damn,_ but what about his back? It was too late when Gordon realised he needed Virgil. But there was no time to recall him from outside.

 _"_ _Gordon, I said get out!"_ Scott was yelling now, but Gordon couldn't leave. This woman had kids waiting for her outside. He struggled to lift her up, the voice in the back of head telling him he couldn't do it. _But he could do it._

"I'm going back in-" Virgil's voice was tense.

" _No Virgil stay put,_ " Scott snapped. " _Gordon, listen to me! Move out now!"_

 _But I've almost got her._ Gordon didn't even bother to answer Scott. He almost had her and Scott's _yelling_ wasn't helping. John's voice was thrown into the mix but Gordon tuned them out. They didn't just _leave_ people. They were international rescue. Her life was equally important as his. _Oh how he would love to hear dad's calm voice now._

Then the quiver turned into a shake.

The walls were going to fall in. That's what it felt like. Gordon stretched himself over the woman. _He had to protect her._ But the floor rumbled and groaned beneath his feet, like a stomach longing for food, before violently throwing him to meet the cold floor. The sound was deafening, the windows groaning, walls screeching, ear splitting screams could have been either coming from the people outside or the ground. A loud crash rang out among the chaos as glass splintered everywhere, rolling with the motion of the room.

Gordon could practically see the ripples along the ground, twisting and turning like water in a glass, there was no relenting as he was thrown to his left, smashing into the wall. Arm flailing, he managed to reach and grab onto a metal leg bolted to the side, pulling himself beneath a half table.

A huge ripping sound, like that of seams tearing apart, only monstrously louder, was followed by a huge eruption, a cloud of dust, a violent jolt. Gordon's felt himself ripped to the right, pain shooting through his arm, clinging with all his strength onto his only lifeline.

He couldn't see. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't control his movements.

Somebody's strangled cry was the last thing he heard, before the room seemed to collapse around him.


	2. Chapter 2

It stopped.

Gordon's ears were ringing, arm throbbing, head pounding. But the rolling, the jolting, the tearing, screeching, ripping, smashing, it had stopped. He felt sick as his insides seemed to continue to move back and forward.

He didn't want to open his eyes, or let go of the leg of the small table. If Gordon let go it might all start again, the easing was just a trap for him to fall right back into the monsters mouth. If he opened his eyes he didn't know what he would see. The ground torn apart, everything shattered. Or he could be hidden beneath pile of rubble.

He wanted to wait until he heard someone else. Even just a whisper of life that would tell him everything was ok. _Everyone_ was ok. _But_ the terrifying silence dragged on, in some ways it was worse than the rumble, everything was so still and deadly calm.

Until the silence was broken by a voice. Virgil sounded as shaken as he felt. " _Gordon! Gordon are you alright?"_

Trying to slow his breathing, Gordon pushed himself to his knees. He wrenched his shaking fingers open, gingerly pulling his arm away from the pole. It throbbed as he moved it. As he pressed it against the ground to balance himself, it sent a sickening jolt through the whole of his body.

 _"_ _Come in Gordon,"_ Scott managed to keep his voice level. _He was trying so much to sound like Dad._ That thought made Gordon feel even worse. He wanted to answer but he couldn't get the words out. His head felt thick, throat dry. God, _where was he?_

 _"_ _Scott, I'm going to go in after him."_

 _"_ _Stand down Virgil, it's not secure anymore."_

 _"_ _I don't bloody care if it's secure!"_

 _Woah, Virg_. Gordon's head spun. Where had this temper come from? Scott and Alan were the ones that got angry. Not Virg or John. Well, John was a bit of an anomaly. Gordon brought a hand up to his aching head. He blinked, vision straining as he tried to refocus. There was so much _dust._

 _"_ _Virgil."_ Scott said sharply. Gordon could tell he was trying to remain in control, if he wasn't field commander he would be panicking as much as Virgil was. Scott was renowned for his overprotective abilities. _"Compose yourself. We're here on a job, remember? Gordon will be fine. Once it's secure we will go in after him and not before-"_

" _Scott he's our brother-"_

 _"_ _I know that Virgil!"_

 _"_ _Scott's right Virg."_ John's calm voice was a blessing to Gordon's aching head. For some reason it made him remember, it made him refocus. " _Just remain calm and do this slowly. Scott, you need to finish off your building. Virgil you get to work on re-securing yours-"_

 _"_ _But John I can't work knowing he's in there!"_

Gordon cleared his throat. He was still on his hands and knees, but slowly the shock of what just happened was fading away. Drawing his aching arm up closer to his face, Gordon shakily pressed the coms. "I'm…here, don't worry."

" _Gordon, what a relief."_

 _"_ _Gords are you alright? Are you hurt?"_

 _"_ _Left us hanging for a bit there fella."_

The sound of all of them trying to check in made him want to turn the coms off again. Mumbling mindless assurances to questions if he was alright, Gordon swiveled himself around, and froze.

" _Gordon, is the last survivor in there with you?"_ John's voice was the only one he truly heard.

 _Crap._ The woman.

Heart in his throat Gordon forgot all aches and shuffled towards her. He ignored the voices of his brothers, everything fading to a blur as he realised something was _very_ wrong. Her eyes were closed and her jaw had gone slack, blood pooling on the floor beneath her head. More debris had crumbled on top of her including spikes of glass from the now broken window.

Gordon didn't realise he had been sitting on it too. He didn't care, scrapes on his hands and knees were _nothing_. Not now. Reaching forward he clasped a hand around her wrist and waited. _No pulse._

Now Gordon truly felt sick. He shuddered violently and turned away. He had managed to swivel beneath a small table but he had just _left_ her out in the open. How could he have done that? _I'm sorry. I should have tried harder. God, I'm so sorry._ He should have moved her straight away instead of talking to Alan, or been faster taking the kids back, or gone straight to where she was instead of wandering around the house. Why had he been so stupid?

The coms had gone silent, his brothers obviously waiting for him to reply. With shaking hands Gordon tried to get back to his feet. "She's gone," he whispered so quietly that he was sure his words would just get carried away in the wind. But then John muttered something, and Virgil made a sympathetic noise. Gordon took a deep breath. "I couldn't get her out fast enough."

" _Alright,_ " Scott drew in a sigh. It was the sigh of somebody very tired who was trying to hide the fact he was disappointed. But Gordon knew he was. They always were when they lost someone. But this time _Gordon_ lost someone. _"Virgil you inform the officer in charge, let them know where to send someone once it's secure again. I'm going to finish up here."_

"I'm coming out," Gordon croaked.

" _Wait,"_ Virgil said. _"Do you need help? Can you walk? I can come and-"_

 _"_ No, I can move," Gordon hadn't meant to sound as angry as he had. There was no reply on the other end. With a fleeting glance back towards the woman, Gordon limped his way over the rubble.

Guilt had always been his least favourite emotion. It wasn't something he felt often either, having no guilt complex when it came to practical jokes. But this kind of guilt was all consuming. It moved alongside the horrid realization that he had _failed._ He, as a member of international rescue, had failed. Sure, it had happened before. But this time, it was on _him._ He was responsible for a lost life. He was responsible for those kids losing their mother.

He clenched his fists tightly, pain instantly shooting up his left arm. But Gordon didn't care. Through the gloves he tried to dig his fingernails into his skin. _Damn it, damn it, damn it._

When he reached the doorway- which was surprisingly still standing after being supported by their machinery- Gordon was greeted by Alan. Gordon closed his eyes in relief. He could not _deal_ with Scott's anger of Virgil's worry in that moment. All he needed was Alan, the person who so often understood what was going on inside Gordon's mind.

"Look who emerges," Alan shook his head in mock disappointment. He greeted Gordon with a smile, but his eyes gave him away as he scanned his brother for any noticeable injuries. They fell on the arm Gordon was now cradling. "Do I need to hand you over to a medic? Or…even worse…Virgil?"

Gordon quickly shook his head. His arm hurt like hell, and glass had scraped his skin, but other than that he would be fine. His injuries were nothing compared to…Gordon shuddered again. _God he felt sick._

"Alright then. I'll probably need to after Scott's finished with you…" Alan clucked his tongue against his teeth, offering an arm for his brother to lean on. Gordon did so, still a bit shaky, and Alan began leading him away. Gordon had no idea where they were going, but he didn't really care. "You know, pretending you can't hear people doesn't really work with the coms. Especially if we know they're all working."

Gordon grunted something in reply.

"Yeah well, I'm just glad I'm not you fella."

"I had to do… _something_ ," Gordon heard himself say.

Alan's happy pretense immediately faded. Gordon knew his brothers liked to take things lightly around him, especially when something bad happened, because that's how they thought he dealt with it. They were usually right of course. "I know you did Gords, I know."

With that, they lapsed into silence as Alan led Gordon towards a building. It was the only building in the town square that looked like it hadn't been damaged, and had been the place where the rescuers and medics were setting up. Gordon growled as he realised it was the town hall. _Great, make sure the town hall is earthquake proof while everybody's houses crumble around it._ The suburb, half an hour out of Wellington, was a small place with barely a couple of buildings to its name, and it clearly didn't have a lot of money behind it.

"Are you going to be a good boy and wait here until we're done?" Alan asked him in a patronizing tone. They entered through the open double doors at the front and Alan directed him over to a wall. The hall was large with wooden floor and ceiling. Rescue staff were scattered around, and at least twenty of the people they had pulled from buildings were being treated. A couple of loose chairs were placed against the wall that Alan was pointing towards.

Gordon glared at him. "What are the others doing?"

"Scott's finishing off his building, that's the last of them for us. Virg is talking to the police chief about," Alan hesitation told Gordon all he needed to know. _About our losses._ "…then he's going to give me a hand pulling back our gear. Just give it an hour and we'll be on our way, evac is under control."

"I can help-"

"No, stay there," Alan shoved Gordon into a chair. "You look _horrible_. So do me a favor and call one of those nice paramedics if anything starts to hurt. If you don't, Virg will be on you worse than Scott. Don't be a true Tracy and try to hide your pain. It gets really annoying."

"You can talk…" Gordon muttered, remembering the time Alan had tried to hide a sprained ankle from them all and even convinced them he could still fly. Luckily, their father had put an end to that and Alan had been shunted up to Five for a month instead. "When did you get so annoying?"

"I'm not annoying, you're just stubborn."

Gordon tilted his head in acknowledgement. He couldn't deny that. "Where are you going?"

"I have to clear our movements with the guy in charge…he doesn't seem to like rendezvousing with me for some reason… " With that, Alan wandered out of the building in search of him. Gordon watched his brother go somewhat wistfully. Having people around meant Gordon could be distracted from his thoughts. Because being left alone with his thoughts was what he most _despised._ That's why he could never handle space. It was thoughts all the time up there. _Maybe that's why John was so smart…_

They had lost five people In Taiwan on Wednesday. It wasn't that any of them had slipped up, but simply that they had arrived too late before they could get to them. Twenty seven rescues on the day were still overshadowed by the five they had missed. Two weeks before three miners had been killed in an explosion. Before that, it was a child during a flash flood. That one had been hard.

There had once been a time when Gordon thought he and his brothers were invincible. They didn't lose people; in the nick of time they were always _there_ to save the day. Scott led them valiantly onto the battle field, with their father behind them every step of the way. But lately, with Dad gone, something had been changing.

When Jeff disappeared over a month ago, Gordon didn't even think they would continue international rescue. But somehow they had managed to pull through. Gordon held his injured arm closer to his chest and leant back in thought. _But were they really pulling through?_

Sighing, Gordon tried to push the thoughts away. He watched as paramedics calmed down a few of the survivors in the corner, some of them shooting curious looks his way. _Was that one of them? The infamous international rescue? Why did he look so young?_ Gordon felt his eyelids drop as exhaustion from the week in general threatened to overwhelm him.

His eyes soon darted back open on hearing yelling coming from outside. From his position in the hall Gordon could see through the open door, spotting one of the policemen trying to calm down another man. That man had a blanket around his shoulders. With his torn clothes and the grime streamed through his face and hair, it was no question that he had been one of the rescue victims.

"Sir, I'm very sorry for your loss, but I'm going to need you to calm down-" the police officer, no older than twenty five, tried to gesture for the man to sit down.

"Calm down?" the strangers voice was strained and broken. " _Calm down?_ How the hell am I supposed to calm down when she's still in there? And none of you are doing a bloody thing about it!"

"Sir, I've told you, the building is no longer secure-"

"Secure? Obviously it wasn't secure in the first place! My wife is _in_ there and you are all too scared to go back in and get her. Do your bloody jobs for once why don't you?"

At this, Gordon decided to intervene. In hindsight it was probably a stupid decision. But stupid decisions were kind of the fourth Tracy's forte. He rose to his feet, head pounding as he did so. A sharp pain lanced through his arm making his stomach twist. But if he could still put one foot in front of the other, then he was fine. That was Gordon's philosophy.

He shuffled his way outside, met with a relieved expression from the young police man. Instantly on seeing Gordon's uniform, the angry man leapt towards him. He had bushy black eyebrows and moustache to match, one that was so large it looked like he had a rabbit above his lip. Gordon decided not to mention that at this precise moment. "Sir, what exactly is going on here? Is someone still trapped somewhere?"

The man scanned him up and down with coal like eyes. "My _wife_ is still trapped in _that_ building-" he jabbed a large finger towards the building Gordon had just emerged from. Gordon felt his heart drop to the floor like it was made of led. "But this one is telling me no one can get in to _get_ her."

The officer raised a hand. "Actually Sir, I was telling you that your wife…she…she didn't make it. When that-"

"Well I don't bloody _believe_ you do I?" The man shook his head furiously. "You weren't in _there_. You people are just trying to make excuses! Go and get her _out!"_

It was obvious the man was in shock. His eyes were darting around and his hands were shaking, he was denying what had happened. Gordon drew in a deep breath and reached a hand forward. "Sir," he said softly, trying to make sure his own voice didn't quiver. "I was in the house just when this last quake hit. I tried to pull your wife out, but she was already injured, and there was no time to get more help. She had run into your children's bedroom to try and save them and…"

The man had fallen silent. His blazing eyes were trained on Gordon, fists clenching. " _You_ couldn't get her out?" he said, with such venom that Gordon quickly removed his hand.

"No Sir. I'm terribly sorry; if there had been more time I would-"

"But you are _standing right in front of me!"_ The man thundered, voice erupting from him that Gordon thought it might cause another rescue. "HOW are you here and she isn't?"

"Because she was trapped from the first qua-"

"Aren't you a member of bloody international rescue? Isn't it your job to _rescue people?_ But you just left her behind? How could _you?"_

"Sir I-"

"You just left her! How could you do that? How could you possibly…" the man turned away, breathing heavily. Gordon caught a glimpse of the furious tears in his eyes, the way his face contorted in rage. For a moment it was silent, which was then filled with wrath filled sobs. Gordon reached a hand forward again, one he meant as comfort, as a heart wrenching apology.

But the man turned on his touch, and his fist flew towards Gordon.

It was the sound that hit first, as though a cannon had exploded inside Gordon's head as it cracked against the wall. His ears rung loudly and he stumbled to the side before the pain began to set in; it was almost as though he had become detached from the environment, and all he could feel was this throbbing in his nose, stars dancing before his eyes.

He would have hit the ground face first if somebody hadn't grabbed onto his arm, a strong grip hauling him upright.

Blinking, Gordon forced the stars away, realizing his eyes were screwed shut he opened them and the sun burst through as though he hadn't seen it for a thousand years. Tears sprung from the pain but Gordon was determined to blink them away. _Ouch._

Strong hands were on his shoulders. He was being steered somewhere before being forced to sit back down. A tissue was shoved towards his nose, a hand holding it steady for him. "Hold it _there_ ," Virgil's deep voice ordered. Head spinning, Gordon did as he was told.

Then Virgil was gone. He had moved back outside to calm the man down. If anyone could do that, it was Virgil. Something about his authoritative yet tranquil tone. Gordon squeezed his eyes shut, now not sure what hurt worse. This had possibly been the worst day and it wasn't even _seven_ yet.

When Gordon opened his eyes, Virgil was in front of him again. _How did he do that?_ The engineer had dirt all through his dark hair and a small scratch above his eye had spilled blood down the side of his face. To be honest Gordon would have been more concerned if he _wasn't_ dirty and scratched; Virgil attracted that sort of thing.

"Are you magic?" Gordon asked sluggishly as his brother reached forward and gently pulled the tissue away.

"I like to think so," Virgil said, pulling over a first aid kid so he could fuss over Gordon. He didn't question where the comment came from and seemed willing to skirt around any serious topics for the time being. Instead he tutted to himself and began clearing away the blood beneath Gordon's nose. "You know Gordo, sometimes it's a good idea _not_ to make the grieving husband angry."

Gordon glared at him. "Smart-ass. I was trying to help."

"Yeah, apparently you're not very good at that."

"So we're playing it like that huh? Well… perhaps you're… _too_ good at it."

Virgil chuckled, now appraising Gordon's arm. He winced as his brother touched it. Virgil smiled, pleased with himself. _How did he always know where to look?_ Maybe he _was_ magic. "Was that supposed to be an insult?"

"I'm too tired to think of any proper ones."

"But if you _weren't_ tired I would be truly offended, I'm sure."

"Damn straight big guy. Listen can you just chuck me some painkillers and I can help you put away the-"

"No," Virgil stood up. He handed Gordon a couple of pills and pointed out the door. "Go and wait in Thunderbird Two, we're almost done here anyway. I don't want to risk you trying to help any more people."

Gordon placed a hand over his heart. _"Rude._ "

Virgil smiled softly. "I'm serious Gords; I need to take a proper look at that arm as well. I know it's hard for you but just _sit_ still for once. Ok?"

Gordon glowered at the floor. "I _can_ sit still…"

"On any normal day you're like a hyperactive toddler."

"I think you're getting me confused with Alan."

"Nope, definitely you."

Gordon sighed dramatically and got to his feet. " _Fine_ , I'll wait in 'Two."

Virgil patted his head as though he were a dog. That was one thing Gordon _hated_ about being the shortest, they were always messing up his hair. Though right now he was sure it wouldn't make much difference. "Good. I'm doing this for your own good you know, if you ran into Scott in the field he might just finish off breaking your nose."

Gordon groaned at the thought of facing his older brother. He really was _not_ in the mood. Perhaps Virgil was right; hiding in the green machine was definitely the best option for now.

OOOOO

But he couldn't hide forever.

The trip on the way back home had been tense to say the least. Alan had been grumbling away in the backseat at something Virgil had said to him, still a little frustrated at not being allowed to take part in any of the actual rescuing. Virgil hadn't said anything the entire way apart from telling Scott his ETA, while their eldest brother's tone was notably sharper than usual.

Gordon felt like hell. His nose throbbed and his arm ached, even his back decided to throw a twinge or two into the mix. _Thanks body._ The week of rescues was catching up with him. Gordon wondered if his legs would work when he needed them too. He wouldn't be surprised if they didn't.

Usually Gordon would have thrown a terrible joke or two into the mix to lighten the mood. But right now, silence was his friend. He had known Virgil had been joking, but part of him wondered whether the artist was right in saying Gordon shouldn't help people. Not even his own brothers.

The only one blissfully far away from the tired tension was John. It was funny how that worked. He was the brother Gordon most wanted to see, but he was millions of miles away. Sure, the new space elevator was certainly faster than sending three up, but Gordon still didn't trust that thing. Ever since a flying fox wire had snapped on him when he was younger, Gordon never really trusted anything that was suspended by a string.

"Thunderbird Two to base, permission to land?" Virgil asked, shoulders tensing as he slowed his 'bird down.

" _Granted._ "

A bumpy landing was the perfect way to finish off a horrible rescue. To most people, rescuing twenty three people was a brilliant success. But losing even one for international rescue put a damper on the mood. Especially Gordon's mood. _Why had he been so stupid?_ The idea that he deserved the pain he was in wasn't a particularly nice one. But it made sense, so Gordon held off from asking for any more pain killers.

Silently, the three of them made their way out of 'Two's silo and back into the house. They all traipsed mud over the carpet, but it got to the point where they just didn't even care. It was almost eight when meaning they had been on site for almost seven hours. The house was still quiet as Grandma hadn't emerged, and Brains was no doubt in his lab.

When they entered the lounge, Gordon was met with a sight he didn't particularly like. Scott looked positively dreadful with a ripped sleeve, dirt covered hair, and a few more stress lines added to that forehead. Gordon sometimes thought that each rescue meant another year off Scott's life. Gordon certainly hadn't helped those stress levels today, but he definitely wasn't going to admit that.

Scott locked him with an icy glare. Gordon responded with a weak grin, "Scotty, I'm the one that's meant to look horrible, not you."

"Well we all look a damn sight right now," Scott grumbled. He placed his hands on his hips which made him look like he aged another ten years. Gordon almost laughed. "So do you want to do this now, or after we've all cleaned up?"

Gordon played innocent. He widened his eyes. "Do what?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"No I don't."

"Yes you do-"

" _I_ for one," Virgil interrupted loudly. "Would like to shower and eat before we start tearing into each other."

Scott now turned his glare on Virgil. It wasn't often that the middle Tracy was subjected to that glare, mainly because Virgil could send an equally vicious one back. Scott and Virgil were _always_ on the same side, it was just how things were done. Gordon started to wonder if today might be different. "We'll just have a nice, calm meeting Virg," Scott said slowly.

"Calm?" Alan snorted and shook his head. "With you and Gordy? I don't think so."

Alan, as usual, was now on the receiving end of _everyone's_ glares. In his usual indifferent fashion he just shrugged it off and headed towards the stairs. "So the 'meetings' in half an hour? Cool, I'll see you then. I've got a hot date with a very steamy shower in the meantime."

Gordon chuckled softly, trying to think of something witty to say. He was supposed to be the funny one, but nothing came to mind. _Damn_ , he really must be tired. Gordon took the chance to dart up the stairs after his younger brother, feeling the eyes of his elder ones following him all the way.

Half an hour later they were all back in the lounge refreshed and changed. Virgil had forced Gordon into the medical bay and gone about treating his various bruises. His arm was now bandaged tightly, it wasn't fractured thankfully, but it had been a close call. Grandma had heard them arrive and decided to put it upon herself to make them a hearty breakfast. Gordon then decided he would just have to sneak a piece of toast later or something, but with his arm aching his stomach wasn't exactly ready for anything yet anyway.

Brains was indeed in his lab along with MAX, and Kayo was still out searching for the Hood, so it was just the four of them gathered around the lounge. John's blue hologram sprung to life as Scott cued him in.

John's eyes instantly fell on Gordon. _"Well, that's a new look. I like the bruises beneath your eyes."_

Gordon fluttered his eyelashes. "Yeah it really brings the colour out."

 _"_ _Exactly what I was going to say._ "

Scott cleared his throat. He sat on the couch next to Alan, trying to look relaxed. Ever since Alan had told him he took things too seriously all the time, Scott had been attempting to look more comfortable. It wasn't really working very well. "Ok, so obviously we need to talk about what happened today."

"What part?" Alan asked unhelpfully.

Scott shot him a look. It wasn't as good as their fathers ' _look'_ , but it was certainly up there. "Well first…I know you don't want to hear this but, we're really going to have to get quicker at securing buildings. We did well but there was a lot of fumbling that could cost us lives in the future-"

"Oh come on, how much faster could we have been?" Virgil asked somewhat defensively. He sat forward to match Scott's stance. "It just took us a while to assess the situation that's all."

Scott nodded and ran a hand through his hair. He hadn't expected to meet objection so early, but apparently the brotherly forces of exhaustion and frustration were against him. "I know, I'm just saying that there is room for improvement."

Gordon knew that Scott had wanted to start with something _other_ than him so that he wouldn't be on edge. But it hadn't exactly worked. Scott turned his gaze towards him before Alan interrupted.

"Can I say something?" the young blonde raised his hand as though he was in school. Without confirmation he spoke anyway. "It was obvious you needed all the help you could get, so why did I get shunted to the sidelines again?"

Scott sighed heavily. "We needed someone to guide the survivors out and remain in contact with the Chief. Usually I would do it, but I thought you could give it a shot."

Alan saw right through Scott. Yeah sure, first responder and field commander would normally be the person to relay information. He pouted that famous Alan Tracy pout. "Next time, I'd prefer to help."

"You _were_ helping Alan," Virgil snapped. "It's not all about action all the time."

"I know that Virg!" Alan's voice rose in defense.

Gordon groaned, sensing a repeat of earlier. He subtly slid off the couch and landed on the floor, sending sparks of pain through his arm. "Chill guys. Virg has a point, everything's important. Alan has a point, he shouldn't be pushed away. Next time we'll do it differently."

They all looked at him from his position on the floor. Finally Alan nodded, happy with this solution. Virgil remained quiet. Gordon saw Scott clench his fists, a little nervous that he was now the entire focus of his older brother. Scott cleared his throat. "Right, now to the more serious matter. Gordon?"

Gordon wondered why Scott framed his name in a questioning tone. Gordon tilted his head. "That's me."

Scott faltered. "…Do you have anything to _say?_ "

"It depends…" Gordon narrowed his eyes. "I thought the sequel was actually better than the first movie, it's kind of controversial I know, but that's just my opinion."

Scott's fists clenched tighter. "Gordon! This is _serious._ You could have been _killed_ today because you didn't follow my orders! We always _know_ that on the field you _listen_ to me. So why the hell didn't you?"

Gordon scraped his fingers along the ground, tearing lightly at the carpet. "Because there was a life involved _Scott._ "

"I know there was Gordon. I weighed up the situation, and I told you to get out. But you _didn't_."

"I couldn't just _leave_ her there!"

"Well, see how that turned out?" Scott had risen to his feet.

Gordon growled at his comment and leapt up too, frustration surging through him. "Yeah, I didn't save her, that's on _me_ but at least I tried! If I had followed you then it would be like she just didn't _matter!"_

"Either way she would have _died_ Gordon, and we could have lost you as well!" Scott's voice was rising with every word. Gordon knew this anger stemmed from a worry about him, but that didn't calm Gordon down. It only made him angrier.

"My life was just as important as _hers!"_ he yelled through gritted teeth. "If I had died with her at least I would have died a member of international rescue, not some coward trying to run away."

"This isn't about you being _brave_ Gordon," Scott stared at him incredulously. It made Gordon feel like a child. "This is about _you_ listening to _me._ Virgil was all ready to race in after you; it's not only your safety at risk, but other peoples too."

"Don't you dare drag me into this," Virgil had his arms folded across his chest. Gordon tried to read him. _Whose side was he on?_

"You do _hear_ what you're saying right?" Gordon hissed, hands shaking. "I get punched in the face by a guy who screams at me for not doing enough to save his wife, while you're saying I should have done nothing at all! How the hell am I supposed to _feel_?"

" _Gordon._ " Scott snapped, taking a step towards him. "It's _simple._ You follow _my_ orders when we're out on the field. Understood?"

"Guys…" Alan was also on his feet, looking dubiously at Virgil. Virgil remained seated, seemingly contented to watch the action unfold. Normally it would be Virgil in between them and Alan arguing on one side, but nothing was the same anymore.

"No! Not understood! What if my _conscience_ overrides your judgement?"

"That is why _you_ don't make decisions, because I can differentiate between _sense_ and _feeling!"_

"What, so you're cold? That's why we follow you?" Gordon didn't mean what he said. His eldest brother could be the most loving of them all, but he was too far in to back out now. Scott was right; his feeling was overriding his sense. Right now all he felt was _anger._

Scott hid the hurt he felt at that comment and lowered his voice to a menacing tone. "No, you follow me because _Dad_ put me in charge. I'm the oldest, and now he's gone that means you listen to me-"

Something snapped.

"But you're not _Dad_ Scott!" Gordon yelled, breathing heavily. He took a shaky step back as silence descended upon them. His voice quivered, "you're not Dad so stop _trying_ to be!"

Nobody said anything.

Alan hung his head, realizing Gordon had gone too far. Virgil was simply looking at Scott with a level gaze as though he had wanted to say the same. Scott took a step back and swallowed. His fists unclenched and his shoulders slumped, unable to mask the anguish on his face.

Gordon cursed at himself internally. But he couldn't say anything. He had _meant_ it, hadn't he? Yes Scott was trying hard to keep them going, but he wasn't Jeff.

Alan got to his feet and placed his hands on his hips. For a moment Gordon thought he would agree, but then he turned his scowl towards him. "You shouldn't have said that Gordon."

Gordon looked at him, feeling betrayed. Alan was meant to be _his_ ally; they were partners in crime, always lumped together as the babies of the family. But there was no denying the reverence Alan had for Scott. Scott held out a hand to stop Alan from saying anymore. "It's _fine._ " It was clearly not fine; Scott's words now ominously quiet. "I'm not trying to be Dad Gordon. But somebody needs to keep International Rescue going, and that's on me. So you _follow_ my orders."

"Maybe if you weren't yelling in our ears all the time, we'd have time to follow them," Virgil said, sitting in a tense position on the couch. "We don't need you telling us to speed things up every few seconds."

Scott blinked at his brother. Gordon felt the breath get caught in his throat. This wasn't right. Virgil was Scott's right hand man, he was _his_ Alan. _What was happening?_ Gordon squeezed his eyes shut as Alan shot a retort back at Virgil. "You're one to talk! Snapping all the time!"

"I _don't_ snap," Virgil, ironically, snapped. "And it's better than _whining._ "

"Whining? _Whining?_ I'm not a child!"

"Right now you sound like one-"

" _Shut it._ " Scott growled. He placed a firm hand on Alan's shoulder to make sure he didn't say anything. "We're all tired, and having a meeting like this is getting us nowhere. Gordon, you're stuck on the ground for the next few days until I know that you're not going to be a liability."

 _Liability?_ Gordon felt himself tremble. "No _way_ Scott that's-"

"That's _final,"_ Scott said and promptly turned on his heel. It wasn't quick enough to hide how upset he was, or how irritated he felt. Gordon felt guilt try to slither in with his anger, but he pushed it away.

"Now look what you did!" Alan pointed an unnecessary hand after Scott.

"Congratulations _us,_ " Virgil remarked bitterly, before burying his head in his hands.

Alan glared at both his brothers, upset at both the arguing, and the mention of their father. Jeff was a topic they all preferred to avoid, but Gordon didn't want to avoid it any longer. Without saying anything else, Alan raced away.

John, who had remained silent through the whole ideal, finally decided to say something. _"I should have brought popcorn."_

Virgil shot him a livid glare. John shrugged and switched himself off, like he didn't even care. Oh how Gordon wished he could do that. With one swipe of the hand he wouldn't have to deal with _this_ anymore. Virgil muttered something and walked off.

Gordon was left alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Gordon was angry. It wasn't the kind of anger he got when 'Four broke down, or Alan stole his clothes, or when he was forced to eat his least favourite food. No, it was anger that bubbled inside him until he felt like he would explode with the mere thought of it.

So now Gordon wanted to hit something. To _really_ hit something. Fortunately none of his brothers were around. With a racing heart, Gordon ran from the lounge, letting his feet take him where they wanted. Grandma Tracy called something after him as he darted through the kitchen, but he didn't stop. He _couldn't_ stop.

Blindly he found himself in a room and started to hit. His fist collided with wood, sending a jolt up his arm, but he didn't care. Gordon hit and hit and _hit._ _Liability? Was that all he was to them?_ A simple charge their father had left behind in his wake. No, he was freaking Gordon Tracy. He was more than just the _jokester_ , more than just the water boy who was pulled out only when needed.

Panting heavily, Gordon stopped hitting. His hand shook as he drew it back, beads of blood caressing his scraped knuckles.

He froze when he realised what he was hitting. _Dad's desk._ Everything that had once been ordered was now shifted, with pieces of paper floating to the ground. Gasping for breath Gordon frantically began picking them all up again. He placed the pens back in the holder, shuffled the files back into place, tried to stop the drops of blood from staining the wood.

"Sorry Dad." There, all ordered for when Jeff would get back.

 _If_ he would come back.

Gordon screwed his eyes shut and shook his head. He was a cocktail of unstable emotions at the moment, but fury against his brother's overran his system. He needed to _sleep._ Just curl up and enter dream land, then he would wake up refreshed. Maybe he would wake up and they would be a team again.

But his brain was too wired to sleep. Exhaustion had pushed him to the point of hyperactivity. Taking a deep breath, Gordon made a decision. He needed to swim. But not in the pool, no, the pool was too easy. First he needed to run, and then he needed to fight against the surf.

So Gordon ran. Usually running was Scott's thing. But right now it was the feel of the wind against his face and ground against his feet made it feel like nothing, or nobody, could stop him getting where he wanted to go. The morning sun beat down strongly on him as he sprinted down the track towards the beach.

Only stopping to kick of his shoes and pull of his shirt, Gordon headed into the waves. As soon as the water touched his skin he sighed. _This was what he needed._ The crashing of the surf was music to his ears, equally as blissful as dipping his head beneath the waves. That was one of his favourite feelings, disappearing into the water, suddenly cutting everything off with nothing to hear but the sound of blood pulsing through his body.

Gordon propelled himself forward, ready to fall into the rhythmic movement he loved so much. A sharp pain caressed his side. Gordon bought his head up and cursed loudly, remembering about his arm a little too late. He had completely soaked the bandage and strained the sprain even more. _Just great._ Even the ocean wasn't his friend today.

Feeling dizzy, Gordon just floated. He didn't try to swim, or push himself back to shore; he would just let the sea take him wherever it wanted. Gordon trusted the sea.

This was more than he could say for his brothers.

No.

That was a lie, and the lie felt wrong even inside his head. Gordon trusted his brothers more than anything. That was how International Rescue functioned. But it was whether his brothers trusted _him_ which was another question entirely.

Ok, Gordon might be a little reckless. Where Scott valued order and planning, Gordon preferred spontaneity and improvisation. That was fine in everyday situations, but in rescues, it was bound to get someone hurt or killed. Gordon _knew_ that. He put on his serious mask when it came to rescues, he would never _willingly_ endanger anyone. He thought his brothers knew that too.

That's why he could never lead. Gordon wasn't a leader, and he had no desire to be one, so why did he have such a problem with Scott taking control? Scott had been leading them when their father was around, so why was it different _now?_ Gordon shook his head, sending droplets of water flying in different directions.

Where was their _father_? Was he trapped somewhere? Was someone holding him hostage? Was he lost, injured, _dead?_ It was the not knowing that was killing Gordon. Every day since the disappearance it had just been a black hole in his vision, it was like losing their mother all over again.

Not that Gordon remembered much about her. He remembered how she used to smell like flowers, and read him stories, but that was about it. His older siblings could remember her well, but Gordon had forgotten. Gordon didn't want to forget his father.

When Jeff was around he and Gordon probably spent the least time with one another. Gordon regretted that. It wasn't that they didn't like each other, far from it; they just didn't have a lot in common.

Scott had the advantage of being the eldest, he was his right hand man, the heir, the military boy, the one that Jeff had always treated like a grown up. Those two would chat the night away without even realizing. Scott could read their fathers actions quicker than he could read Virgil's, which was pretty damn quick.

Alan was similar, being the youngest he would always be Jeff's baby. They bonded over their love of cars, and speed, and the only reason they butted heads so often was because they were so similar.

John was Jeff's prodigy, his calm, intelligent son who shared his love for the stars and space. If Jeff was ever angry, or frazzled, he would turn to John to talk him down. It helped that John was the one to inherit Lucille's fine featured looks, making him the perfect mixture of his parents.

Being the middle children, Virgil and Gordon were most likely to be forgotten, but Virgil had his talent on his side. He painted like their mother, he played music like their mother, and he even shared their mother's patient temperament- _most_ of the time. Gordon liked to think that somehow part of her soul had escaped into Virgil. He was a walking reminder of what Jeff had loved so much about her.

Gordon on the other hand was just Gordon. He liked water and making people laugh. Whenever he had attended a Tracy enterprise meeting with his father, people had asked " _and which son is this?_ "

 _"_ _This is Gordon, my second youngest."_

" _Ah the swimmer?"_

 _"_ _Yes, that's right."_

And that was that. The swimmer, the jokester, the _liability._ There had been countless times where Gordon had to watch his brothers pile out to a rescue, and Gordon was told he 'wasn't needed.' What would happen now, if Gordon was to just disappear? Would anything be different? Perhaps not. Four _was_ the least used craft out of all of them.

But he wouldn't complain. Nor did he mind. Because that was his _job._ Gordon was the one and only Aquanaut, and when he _was_ needed, he was the one that could do the job _right._ _Take that for a liability, Scott._ Gordon closed his eyes and let the waves buffet his skin. The anger was slowly fading away with the therapeutic noises of the ocean. Gordon tried to smile, but inside he just felt hollow.

ooooo

Gordon was making his way back up to the house when his watch began to beep. He sighed, all ready to sprint up the rest of the track if need be. Then he remembered what Scott had said. Gordon was _grounded._ This meant he didn't have to go. Which meant he didn't have to _run._ _Good._

He switched the coms on to listen in, but remained silent, content to just meander back up the track. There was no rush after all. John was relaying information about a broken bridge. Scott headed to 'One and Virgil was ordered to go after him. It was the same as it always was, but Gordon could practically feel the tension in the air just by hearing their voices.

 _"_ _Virgil, you follow behind. I'll fill you in when I arrive and see what it's like. ETA, two hours."_

 _"_ _Alright. ETA two hours forty five. Oh hang on; I'll make it thirty, just for you."_

 _"_ _Hmm."_

Gordon grimaced, wondering what exactly it was that he had started. Sparking off Tracy frustrations was never a good idea, especially those who were renowned for holding grudges. Hair drying in the sun, Gordon remained still and watched as Thunderbird One rocketed out of the pool. 'Two's loud engines could soon be heard before the green machine followed her thinner counterpart. Now that the coast was clear, Gordon made his way back into the house. He thanked Mother Nature for this rescue; it meant he didn't have to face either of the eldest.

Instead Grandma, with her hands on her hips, greeted him with a frown. Gordon swallowed dryly, wondering if she had in fact heard the argument that morning. "Gordon _Cooper_ Tracy…" she began, shaking her head.

"Ah…yes Grandma?"

"You haven't eaten _anything_ at all today young man! How do you expect to be functioning on an empty stomach?"

"Oh," Gordon sighed in relief. "Yeah well, I'm functioning on three hours of sleep as well. Turns out I'm a superhero."

"Oh I've always known that dear." She rolled her eyes before shoving a plate into Gordon's hand. He was even more relieved to find that it was just toast, something that even Grandma Tracy couldn't ruin. "How's that arm of yours?" her frown deepened as she saw the bandage was now wet and torn.

"Well…" Gordon tried to think of something positive to say. He held up a finger, "It's not _broken._ "

"I can see that. Well, it was nice of Scott to let you off this one then, you need to rest it."

"Nice? Oh yeah, super nice. That guy is the nicest." Gordon didn't hide the bitterness as well as he thought.

" _Gordon._ " Ruth Tracy shot him her look, which _was_ better than Jeff's. Gordon grinned bashfully at her. "Your brother is doing the best that he can. It's tough for him."

"It's tough for us all!" Gordon practically shouted, instantly regretting it as his Grandma locked him with a stare. He reminded himself that she had lost her _son_. "I mean…yeah it's…" he sighed, giving up. "Sorry."

Grandma Tracy patted him on the arm, face softening. "Alright dear, I understand you're tired. Alan's eating in the lounge," she pushed him gently towards it before turning away.

Gordon was tempted to tell his Grandmother about the age comment Alan had made earlier, as revenge for Alan sticking up for Scott. But then he decided that he could save that for later blackmailing purposes. Biting his lip, he contemplated just staying in the kitchen to eat.

But _no._ Gordon didn't _hide_ from his younger brother. He would never live that down. That would be cowardly. So he trotted into the lounge and promptly sat down without a word of greeting. Alan looked up at his arrival and the two of them munched toast in silence, silently appraising one another.

"Gordon…" Alan began, blue eyes narrowed in thought. Gordon half expected him to come out with an existential question. Or maybe yell at him some more. Both which Gordon dreaded. "Do you remember the name of that game we used to play, with the underwater zombies?"

Gordon raised his eyebrows, almost dropping his piece of toast. He certainly hadn't been expecting _that._ "Wait…what?"

"You know, the one where zombies evolved into fish."

Gordon faltered, wondering if this was some sort of trap. "Erm…the swimming dead?"

" _No_ , that's not it," Alan tapped his foot in thought. "Like…deep sea apocalypse or something."

"Oh!" Gordon's eyes lit up as the memory hit him. " _Six thousand feet under!"_

Alan grinned. "Ok I was _way_ off. But yeah, that one! Where you went around with that little harpoon?"

"Yes!" Gordon chuckled, "And they had zombie whales? Classic. Wait…why did you want to know?"

Alan promptly and stubbornly stated, "I want to play it."

Once he had decreed that, the two of them went on an hour long search to find it. Gordon wasn't surprised when Alan didn't start up anything but a 'nonsense' conversation, if he wanted to avoid the argument, then that was fine by him. They buried themselves in Alan's video game collection, but had no luck. Then they turned his room upside down, but still no luck. Gordon would have given up by then, but Alan was a determined soul, and once he wanted something he usually got it. So, they continued looking, and were finally successful when they discovered it in the case of one of Gordon's old scuba diving videos.

"Why on earth was it in there?" Alan asked, plugging it into his game console.

Gordon chuckled. "I think we were hiding it from dad. Remember when we played it too much and he threatened to take it?"

"Oh yeah," Alan giggled, almost manically. They both collapsed onto Alan's bed, Gordon cocooning himself inside a blanket. The T.V turned on and blared a retro looking screen in their faces. Gordon instantly remembered how _terrible_ this game was. But it didn't mean it wasn't addicting.

As the music started, the two brothers lapsed into silence. Gordon wanted to say something, but felt that perhaps this was Alan's way of telling him he was forgiven. So instead he focused on killing as many Zombie starfish as he could. Alan's eyes froze as he looked at his brothers hands. One was half bandaged while the other was now bruised and torn.

"Gordy…" concern flickered in those blue eyes. "What did you do?

Screwing up his nose, Gordon examined his hand. "A _Scott_."

"What?"

"I did a Scott. He is notorious for punching inanimate objects. I don't really see the appeal though…it just hurts."

"Well, you're obviously both idiots," Alan said, satisfied with that answer. He didn't pry any further, or ask Gordon why, but simply stated, "This doesn't mean I'm going to go any easier on you, you know."

"Oh come on, I could beat you even if I didn't _have_ hands."

"Oh yeah? Bring it on fella."

So Gordon brought it. He _killed_ those Zombie sea creatures like there was no tomorrow. Nobody destroyed his beautiful ocean, especially not dead things. It was a mind numbing game, and that's what Gordon needed right now. Somehow Alan had known that. So it wasn't just Scott and Virgil that had the freaky telepathy thing going on, huh. Though at the moment, neither of his eldest brothers seemed to be able to work with one another. Every now and then there would be a shout through the coms as one of them did something wrong, or the other needed help. In the end Gordon forced Alan to switch it off. They weren't needed anyway.

Gordon sent a harpoon whizzing into Alan's character.

"Hey!" Alan protested, shoving him harshly on the shoulder. "I was about to get that Stingray! You're supposed to kill the zoms, not _me._ "

"Killing you is more fun."

"Gee _thanks._ "

"Al, do you think I was wrong?"

The question caught his brother off guard. Alan fumbled with his console, trying to keep the cool façade he'd been trying so hard to maintain. "Ah well, um…you shouldn't have said that to Scott."

"Not about _that._ Do you think I was wrong to stay with that woman?"

Alan hesitated, biting his lip. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to think that Scott's orders were final. But part of him knew he would have done the exact same thing. "Well…no. Not really. I mean, what else are we there for but to put our lives on the line for others?"

"Exactly!" Gordon pushed down fiercely on the console. "That's why we _formed_ International Rescue. We didn't want people to go through the same thing as us. But today that's what _happened._ I mean she had kids Al, they lost a mum today just like us. She tried to run in there to _save_ them. It was all I could do to stay with her! I know Scott and John just wanted to keep me safe but…it's not about me!"

"I think he's just annoyed you didn't listen to him," Alan shrugged indifferently, that indifference was somewhat calming to Gordon. "I'm just annoyed you all don't listen to _me._ "

"I listen to you Al."

"Yeah, but you don't really count."

" _Thanks._ "

Alan grinned and nudged his shoulder affectionately, obviously reading something in Gordon's face. "Don't worry Gords, it will blow over. By the next rescue he'll have forgotten all about it."

"Oh yeah? And you and Virg will be best friends again?"

"Hey, he's being a dick."

"Or are you being a brat _?_ "

Alan rolled his eyes and sent a harpoon into Gordon's character. "I could say the same for you."

"Touché little brother, touché."

ooooo

"Alan dear, could you pass the salt?" Grandma Tracy asked from her position at the head of the table. She had decided that after a hard week of rescues they all needed a wonderful feast for dinner. The table was laden with savories that she had been baking most of the afternoon. Only half of that feast was actually _edible_ however, and it was more of a punishment than it was a treat.

Virgil and Scott had returned an hour earlier, neither saying a word to one another. The rescue had gone wrong when one of Virgil's grapples had slipped off, putting too much weight on Thunderbird One. That had almost sent Scott and his 'bird down the ravine with the rest of the broken bridge. Now of course, Virgil blamed Scott and Scott blamed Virg. It honestly felt like they were _kids_ again. Gordon was almost tempted to start up a food fight.

Alan shuffled the salt down the table. He was sat opposite Gordon and next to Scott, and seemed to think that if he started a conversation with either of them then it would confirm his allegiance. So he just remained uncharacteristically quiet. Brains was absent from dinner, deciding that he would much rather start repairs on 'One. Gordon wondered if Brains could sense that something unpleasant was going on.

"Now I want you boys to get an early night tonight you hear?" Grandma tittered away to herself as she poured half the salt tin onto her food. They had been eating for half an hour, yet nobody had made any attempt at conversation. So of course Ruth took it upon herself to fulfil that duty. Gordon found himself wishing that she hadn't. "It's not healthy, or _safe_ , working the hours that you're doing."

"It's not like we have a choice Grandma," Virgil said, picking at his plate.

"I _know_ that Virgil," she patted her grandson on the hand. "If it keeps going like this, eventually it will get to the point where it's dangerous for those you are rescuing as well. Tired rescuers don't make for much use."

Alan yawned loudly to back up her statement.

"I think it may have got to that point already…" Virgil said quietly. Gordon sighed inwardly. His arm had truly begun to ache now, so much so he barely wanted to move it. His head felt thick, and his throat was dry, and all he wanted to do was just to curl into a ball. The last thing he wanted to do was be a part of another argument.

"It isn't because we're tired that we made mistakes," Scott retorted, sending a look towards Gordon instead of Virgil. "It's because we're not _listening._ "

Virgil, thinking the conversation was about him on the last mission, shook his head. "I was listening just _fine,_ you weren't working with _me_. That's what the problem was-"

"I wasn't even aware there _was_ a problem!" Alan said loudly, as always he had to have his say on the matter.

"That's because you weren't _there,_ " Virgil stabbed his fork into his plate. "You know listening goes two ways Scott, sometimes _you_ have to listen to others as well-"

"You think I wasn't?"

"I _know_ you weren't!"

"Oh _shut up!_ " Gordon yelled, making everyone jump. Grandma, eyes wide, turned to Gordon with a confused expression. He put on a mockingly cheerful voice and forced a smile. "Would you like to know what I did today? I tried to save a woman's life but she just ended up _dying_ anyway. Then I got punched by her grieving husband, awesome, so Virgil came to the conclusion I just shouldn't help anyone. Then I came home and broke my family so I hit Dad's desk, but I didn't realise it _was_ dad's desk, then I went for a swim but I _couldn't_ swim because of my damn _stupid arm_ and then-"

"Woah Gords, take a breath," Scott was around at his side in a heartbeat, which made Gordon feel even worse. Instantly all the anger Scott held for Gordon was dropped at the sight of his brother in distress.

Gordon tried to do as he was told but he couldn't breathe. He wasn't sure why but the air just wouldn't flow. He gasped, bringing a hand up to his throat. Scott placed two hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye. " _Gordon_ , calm down."

But Gordon couldn't calm _down_ ; he didn't want to calm down, he just wanted everything to go back to way it had _been._ He wanted Jeff to be there to just instantaneously make everything alright again. "We're supposed to be a _team_ Scott a _team_ ," Gordon panted. "But without Dad we're not ok? It's just not _working._ "

Scott's hands instantly fell back to his sides, eyes darkening. "We are working! We _have_ been working, we've been saving lives. Just because dad isn't here doesn't mean we have to fall apart. He wouldn't want us to give up, you know that."

Gordon shook his head wildly. "Do I know that? It's not like he ever _told_ me, he probably didn't think I was anything but a _liability-"_

"Gordon you know I didn't _mean_ that! All I meant was that you have to be more careful on the field, we have to know what you aren't going to pull stunts like you did today."

" _Stunts?_ Stunts? Do you think this is some kind of game to me?"

"Isn't everything a game to you?" Scott said harshly. He closed his eyes, instantly wanting to draw back his words. "Ah jeez Gordy I didn't mean that, all I'm trying to say is…do you think Dad would have wanted you to die in that earthquake?"

"Well, I wouldn't know, I never actually asked him that specific question."

"Well the answers no, he would have wanted you to follow my lead and stay safe, yeah?"

Alan groaned loudly, pushing his plate away from him. Virgil rolled his eyes. Grandma looked about ready to strangle one of them. Gordon glared and shifted out of his brothers' grasp. _Nice try big guy._ "Oh lay off it will you!"

Scott threw his hands out in frustration, looking to his Grandmother for any type of support. She muttered to herself and shook her head, all about ready to storm out of the room herself.

"Will you two stop already?" Virgil asked, though really he wasn't a position to be saying anything. "Honestly, you're doing my head in. Ever think Gordon's right, that you're the one who has to listen more-"

"I _do_ listen-"

Gordon closed his eyes. _Damn it._ The arguing slowly rose up again, as Alan joined in it only made it worse. "Well if it makes you feel better, nobody listens to me Virg! How do you like the sound of that?"

"Oh be quiet Alan, not everything is about _you-_ "

"I never said it _was!_ "

Grandma Tracy reached over to squeeze Gordon's hand, like she was trying to keep him calm. Or maybe she was trying to keep _herself_ calm. Gordon wanted to duck beneath the table and disappear. Disappear from the island, from international _rescue_ , from his volatile brothers…

Finally Virgil rose to his feet, briskly thanked their grandmother, before claiming he had work to do with Brains. Scott followed suit, angrily heading up to his room, wondering why things just weren't going _right._ Alan, feeling left out, decided he would go in a huff away to the lounge. It would normally have been amusing for Gordon, watching them all act like children, but he couldn't even muster a smile. Half of him wanted to race back to the beach for a nighttime swim, while the other half just wanted to collapse in a heap.

Ruth Tracy sighed. Her lips were pulled thin and her eyes were narrowed, but she didn't appear particularly concerned. Gordon wondered if she had noticed more than she was letting on. "Well then, the storm has finally broken I see."

Gordon raised an eyebrow, trying to hide the shaking in his hands. "The storm?"

"It's been brewing for weeks." She shook her head in disappointment and began to clear away the dishes. She then had second thoughts, muttered something to herself, before just giving up and sitting back down. "If Jeff were here he would sort you all out in heartbeat."

Gordon nodded, rubbing his eyes. He tried to imagine what his father would say. W _ould you all just give it a rest? A man needs peace and quiet around here! Virgil and Scott work it out, now. Alan, stop trying to be included. Gordon, shut up._

Grandma Tracy sighed sadly, "But, well, he's not here …so this time you have to sort it out yourselves."

Screwing up his nose at that idea, Gordon shook his head. "Yeah…or we could just leave it."

" _Gordon._ You'll just keep rescuing the way you are?" Grandma shook her head, clicking her tongue against her teeth. "No, no, that won't do. We don't need to put other people's lives in danger because you boys can't sort out your differences."

Ruth Tracy was right of course, she always was. But Gordon just couldn't see a way around it. He didn't even know what was going on with Virg and Scott; in fact he barely knew what was going on with himself. Maybe he just needed a break from it all. No, that would be just running away from their problems. But Gordon _wasn't_ the guy who sorted things out. Gordon was the guy who made inappropriate jokes. He sighed. "Listen Grandma, I'm going to get some rest. It's been a long day."

"Sure darling, sure."

Gordon moved towards his bedroom. There was nothing more he wanted to do than _sleep_ right now, exhaustion from the day's events overwhelming him. So he climbed into beds, wrapped himself in blankets, and disappeared into the world of dream.

ooooo

John Tracy glared down at the earth.

He didn't often do that. It was such an exquisite sight that every time he looked below him, he couldn't help but feel awe inspired by where he was. But this time John made an exception. Was it too much to ask for a little peace, quiet, and order? Even in _space_ he couldn't escape his hot headed, reckless, whiney, and just plain _annoying_ brothers. Sure, switching the coms off would give him the quiet he wanted. But it wouldn't solve anything.

Usually John relied on Scott to solve the problems. But if Scott was _part_ of the problem, then he would turn to Virgil. If Virgil was _also_ part of the problem (which happened _very_ rarely), then it would fall to John. Because leaving it to Gordon and Alan was a terrible idea, and they knew it just as well as he did.

John sighed, floating in front of the dashboard. He liked to think of his family as something that needed to be perfectly balanced to function. Dad had disappeared, and the structure had wobbled, so Scott had tried to slip in his placed to stabilize it. Only that had left a hole where Scott had once been, which also meant Virgil had no one by his side anymore. Gordon had gone from his euphoric and jovial place at the top, and slipped to the bottom, and Alan was trying to make his way to the front to simply be noticed.

And John…well John had no idea where this metaphor was going, but he knew that he needed to be the one to slip silently back to earth and fit it all back together again. John Tracy, the orbital peacemaker. That was a far better nickname than star dancer, or space wanderer, or whatever Gordon could think up on the spot.

So John cued into the lounge. His holographic form burst from his portraits eyes, ready to be greeted by fuming brothers. But instead he was met only with his Grandmother trying to put away dishes. She froze, looked up at him, and dumped the plates she was holding before racing down the steps into the lounge.

John floated steadily, eyeing his Grandmother with an intensity only John could possess. "I'm in space and I still can't find quiet. I can hear them all from up here. Hi Grandma, how are you?"

" _Hi gorgeous_." Ruth leant fondly towards her second eldest Grandson. _"Well actually, do you mind if I come up and live with you for a while? Things are getting a little heated down here."_

John smiled a knowing smile. In fact John always looked _'knowing'_. "Sure, there's plenty of…" he paused for effect, "space."

 _"_ _John, would you hit yourself for me please?"_

John chuckled softly, "Gladly Grandma. I'm no Gordon, I know."

"Gordon's no Gordon at the moment either," his Grandmother shook her head ponderously. "Now, do you need me to get anyone?" She already knew the answer. If John had wanted one of his brothers urgently he would have contacted them by watch, so she liked to think he called in just to check on her.

John shook his head and got straight to the point. "I'm coming home."

Grandma blinked. " _What?_ "

"I'll aim for Sunday. I know we don't like leaving this thing on auto unless it's an emergency, but I think I should come down."

"Oh thank _god._ " Grandma heaved a sigh of relief. She sat down on the couch and leant back, like a weight had just been lifted from her shoulders. "There will finally be some sense in this house...well, only if you're sure?"

John shot her a look. Ruth chuckled to herself, now _that_ look was similar to Jeff Tracy's. "I'm sure. Because if I don't come down, nobody's going to sort this mess out, and I'm going to be stuck up here listening to all of them argue. Frankly I love my peace too much for that. If that's alright with you?"

"Alright? _Alright?_ " Grandma laughed and placed a hand over her heart. "John, this is the best news I've had in a while."

John raised an eyebrow, surprised by how ecstatic she was sounding. "Grandma, I'm starting to think you have a favourite grandson…"

"Oh yes dear, its Virgil."

John rolled his eyes as though he doubted her, but he knew it was true.

"Well dear, this is great news, but I'd prepare yourself to get dragged into one argument or another."

"Really Grandma, you underestimate me so." John shook his head as though she knew absolutely nothing. A mischievous glint flickered in his eye. Most people just lumped John in the boxes of _quiet_ , _genius_ and _loner._ When in matter or fact, he was the silently lethal one of them all. Ruth was pretty sure he was the one Gordon learnt most of his tricks from.

Sure, John _was_ a quiet, intelligent introvert, but there was far more to him than met the eye. Not only was he surprisingly blunt and unpredictable, but he had a wicked love for sarcasm. That side of him was only privy to those that knew him well enough however, otherwise giving the impression of a calm, patient, and caring older brother. "Let's just say we really are going to need popcorn this time."

Grandma tilted her head in confusion. _What on earth was he talking about?_ "You're only coming home because you're hungry, aren't you?"

John smiled mysteriously before switching off the com. The hologram disappeared. Grandma sighed, feeling infinitely better. John sighed, feeling infinitely worse. Now he just had to think of something that would get them all together again. But luckily, thinking was what John Tracy did best.

ooooo


	4. Chapter 4

" _Virgil, you have to fly forward! I can't take all this weight on the tail."_

 _"_ _Scott, If I fly forward anymore I'm going to snap the damn cable! You have to pull back."_

 _"_ _That will achieve nothing."_

 _"_ _Then we'll start again and try something else."_

" _There isn't time!"_

Alan's voice entered the mix. _"Guys how about we fly upward at the same time then-"_

His suggestion was shut down by two voices at once. " _No Alan!"_

Gordon did the only thing to save his sanity, and switched the coms off. Morning bird chirps now replaced nattering brothers, and it was a much more pleasant sound. The sky was clear, the sun was shining, and it was another gorgeous day on Tracy Island. The suns warmth didn't quite reach Gordon's skin however. Even while lounging on one of the deck chairs he felt strangely cold.

He yawned loudly, still tired even after his luxury eight hours of sleep. Yesterday he had woken up thinking things would have just fixed themselves. But Virgil spent most of his time with 'Two, Scott had a whole lot of Tracy industries paperwork to catch up on, and Alan slept for a good percentage of the day. So Gordon wandered around aimlessly trying to avoid all of these places, and ended up going scuba diving down at the reef. When he returned Scott had been called out to a rescue, and Virgil and Alan were in the midst of an angry glaring match.

But today Gordon had the rare opportunity to be by himself in the house. Brains had taken a trip to the mainland to look for more parts, and Grandma had decided to go along for an early supply trip. She insisted they needed more food, but Gordon knew she just wanted to escape for a while.

It was good to be alone…

…for about five minutes. But now Gordon was bored. He still hadn't been allowed to go on the latest rescue, this time with Scott claiming he was unfit for duty. Actually, the only contact he'd had with his older brother was a brushing of the shoulders as they passed in the hallway. Scott had obviously wanted to say something to him, but Gordon just kept on moving. Alan hadn't said anything to him either, too absorbed in his own frustration to care about anyone else's. Virgil had come to see Gordon to tell him about the mission, and check on his arm, but even the artist wasn't in the mood for too many words.

Part of Gordon was tempted to rummage through his younger brothers game collection to entertain himself, but that would be no fun without Alan. There were limitless options of what he could do, but he kept pulling up a blank. None of them were fun on his own. Even setting up a trap for his brothers had no allure for the normally avid prankster. It would only make them angrier, and that's something he couldn't handle. Shifting uncomfortably on the lounger, he sighed. Maybe he should turn on the coms again, just to be safe.

" _Alright, easy now Virgil…That's it we've almost…damn! We almost had it! You have to pull tighter on the-"_

 _"_ _I know what I have to do Scott."_

 _"…_ _I was just making sure."_

 _"_ _You guys, I could go out and tie the-"_

 _"_ _No Alan!"_

Ok and no _thanks_. Gordon switched them off again, actually relieved that he wasn't out on a rescue. No, he was just sat here, being absolutely no use to anyone or anything. Even if he was at the rescue he might be no use to anyone or anything, who knows. Perhaps he should just wander away, maybe nobody would notice.

Ok they _would_ notice, he would have brothers on his tail left right and center, but still…

Gordon's foot tapped on the ground.

He rolled over.

He rolled back.

Man, being alone _sucked._

"You should try reading," a voice shocked Gordon onto his feet. He whirled around, ready to grab the umbrella stick if a weapon was needed. Instead he came face to face with John; his lithe brother not even blinking when confronted with Gordon's bruised appearance.

It took Gordon a moment to regain his composure. Heart racing, he slowly lowered his hands. _Where had he come from?_ John had mastered the art of silently slipping into a room without anyone noticing, which Gordon thought quite a dangerous talent. "Jeez Johnny, will you ever greet me like a normal _person?_ "

"No. Because you're not a normal person. Normal people read."

Gordon felt himself break into a smile, a genuine one this time, before flinging himself at his older brother. His arms wrapped tightly around John's thin form, "what are you doing here space brain? You're not due down for another week and a bit!"

John shifted, trying to detach Gordon the limpet from his skin. Even though he didn't show it, John was concerned about his younger brother's new appearance, so he tried to be gentle. "Oh you know me; I just came to pick up some more books before heading back up."

Gordon's smile faltered, he took a step back before realizing John was joking. The best thing about John's comedic ability was that he always looked so serious. It was a skill Gordon had never been able to acquire. "Alright, stupid question. But…" Gordon frowned, eyes travelling towards his watch.

John read his mind. "Yes, I cleared it with Scott. Yes, Fives on auto. Yes, I knew they were going on a Rescue. Yes, I gave them all the details. No, they don't need me right now."

"Nice and succinct. Ten out of ten."

John raised an eyebrow. He was taller than all his brothers, bar Scott, which would have made him appear far more imposing if it wasn't for his light frame and delicate grace. Gordon preferred to think of him as a creature of the moon rather than an astronaut. "So, what were you planning on doing today?"

Gordon raised a hand, lowered it again, and screwed up his nose. "Um…I thought I'd just go for a swim…or wallow in my sorrows...ya know, the usual."

"Mind if I join you?"

"You don't like swimming."

"But I _do_ like wallowing."

"Then pull up a seat," Gordon gestured towards the deck chairs, swiveling himself around so he was sat back on his own. John followed suit, stretching his long limbed form out to catch the much needed sun. There would be a limited time frame before his pale skin would start to burn. That was another reason Gordon could never survive up in Five.

"So how's…" Gordon shifted, "um…space?"

John turned to him with a look that made Gordon feel like he was five. He raised a solitary eyebrow and blinked, " _How's_ space?"

"Yeah, you know…" Gordon gestured toward the sky, "how are the stars and things?"

"Ok, you have never once in your life asked me how space is. Now I _know_ something's wrong."

"What? I'm just trying to make conversation-"

"You're trying to _avoid_ conversation."

"Well what do _you_ want to talk about?"

"How about we start with that woman?" John turned on his side so that he faced Gordon. He stared casually at him, as though they were going to be simply discussing the weather. John may be the most intelligent of them all, but he was certainly never very good with emotion. He was blunt, and he hated to sugar coat things, never quite comprehending the emotional impact of his words.

Gordon swallowed dryly, the fingers on his bruised hand tapping nervously on the side of the chair. John noticed this and a small smile played on his lips. "Ah, I see you've done a Scott."

Gordon wriggled his fingers, indicating he heard, but didn't say anything. He was sure if he opened his mouth than everything, every thought and feeling, would just tumble out into the open. That would be _bad._

"Perhaps you're more similar than you think," John noted, blue eyes glinting in the sunlight. He knew better than to push Gordon to talk. There was no point asking questions, or trying to lure something out, Gordon would talk when he wanted to and never before. So John decided _he_ would do the talking for once. Everything was already out of balance anyway. "I bet that, like Scott, you think it's your fault."

Gordon didn't respond.

"Whenever we lose someone on a job, Scott goes over and over everything in his head, wondering what he could have done better. You see Virgil and Al; they're pretty good at stepping back from the situation. But you and Scott…" John shrugged, "you always like to blame yourselves."

"Well, it was my fault," Gordon said quietly, eyes lowering.

John sighed. Gordon was usually ever-smiling, barely batting an eye when things went south. But there was no famous grin this time. "Do you know how many conversations I have about this? _No_ It's not your fault. It's simple. Did you start the earthquake?"

"…no."

"Did you try to save her?"

"…yeah…"

"Then it's not your fault." John shook his head. Why couldn't his brothers understand that? John dealt with it perfectly fine that way. It wasn't that he was detached at all; it just made _sense_ to him.

"Her husband thought it was my fault."

"Well her husband was grieving, and in _shock_. I mean seriously Gordon," John clicked his fingers in front of his little brother's face. "You went in, risked your life to save her, it's not your fault. End of story. So stop feeling guilty on me please."

Gordon pushed himself up by his elbow, leveling to meet John's gaze, "…You know what star gazer?"

"I'm right? I'm a genius? I'm your favourite brother?"

"All of the above," Gordon shot him a dry smile. Man had he missed John. He hadn't realised quite how much they needed the second eldest around.

John gave a curt nod. "So you aren't going to mope anymore?"

"Eh, can't make any promises…and how do you know I've been moping! You haven't even been here."

John rolled his eyes and lay flat on the sun lounger. "Gords, I can feel it from the stars."

Gordon raised an eyebrow. "Oh so you talk to them now do you?"

"Yeah, I give them names and everything."

"...wow. Humans are a thing you know."

"Yes but I much prefer the company of exploding balls of gas."

"Better to look at I suppose?"

"Hmm, and more intelligent conversation."

Gordon snorted, amused at the idea of John having pet stars. John chuckled with him, before growing serious. "No, I mean it Gords. When you aren't smiling, no one's smiling."

Gordon paused, taking in the words. He understood that John was trying to sidle the conversation toward the arguments, but his sentence held more connotations then he realised. "Is that my job…?" Gordon muttered quietly, fingers tapping in thought.

"Uh…what?"

Gordon shook his head, brushing away his comment. He thought about telling John for a moment, about how confused and frustrated he was. John would just tell Scott, and then they'd all end up having some forced bonding session which he very much wanted to avoid. So Gordon held his tongue. "Hey Johnny…do me a favor, and let's _not_ talk about the others for now. I just want to spend time with my fav brother and relax."

John lifted his chin, eyes sliding sideways to study Gordon. "I'm only temporarily your favourite."

"Yeah, make the most of it."

"Gee thanks kid."

"No worries. So it's a deal?"

"What?"

"No serious talk, no dad, no brothers, no international rescue. I just wanna chat mindlessly about the ocean, and space, and _girls_ , and songs, and _food._ Ooh no, we need to _eat_ food. Preferably junk food!"

John chuckled as Gordon got more excited about his plan. He'd got as much out of him as he could, so the astronaut may as well have some fun while he was back home. "And what do you propose that we do?"

"Hmm…" Gordon grinned. "Have you ever heard of the game _Six thousand feet under?_ "

ooooo

Gordon was about to be crowned victor when the others returned from the rescue.

John had failed miserably at playing the game, blaming it on the fact that Gordon 'knew the terrain better'. Gordon had then come up for a concept of Zombies in space which John had seriously considered creating. The man was not only a whiz with book learning, but knew a whole lot about coding and programming, so Gordon didn't doubt his creative ability on that one. He did doubt that Zombies would ever be able to get their hands on space suits, but that was just a minor flaw.

For the first time in a while Gordon felt himself truly relax. Perhaps it was the absence of his other brothers, or that he was allowed to just forget about it all for a while, but the time with John did a lot to improve his mood. It was only with the sound of Thunderbird One's thrusters that he began to feel worried again.

The only warning of their brothers returning home was a brief call from Scott to John. Their eldest brother looked a complete mess, his hair was a wreck, his uniform was torn, and a small gash touched his cheek. But before they could ask any questions he had cut off the call. A sickening feeling trembled through Gordon as he wondered if something had gone wrong. Usually after a successful rescue there were good vibes all around, but the aquanaut wasn't feeling any of those from Scott.

John must have been sensing the same, though he didn't let on, because as soon as 'One touched down he was on his feet and out of Alan's room. Gordon hurriedly followed the astronaut down the hall and into the lounge, just in time to greet their older brother.

Scott looked just as bad in person. His eyes hovered on Gordon for a moment, before he turned to face John without a word of greeting. "Alan's been hurt. We need to get the med bay sorted."

John's eyebrows lifted in surprise as he shared a look with his closest brother. Worry instantly flooded Gordon and, not being privy to these telepathic thoughts, he hurriedly burst out, "what do you mean Alan's been hurt? How? When? Is he ok?"

Scott continued to look at John as though he was the one to ask the question. "We were lifting away blockage from a cave to free the trapped workers. Alan was on the ground, he was supposed to be waiting to tell the workers when it was safe to move. Unfortunately one of them moved too early and Alan…" Scott now looked towards Gordon, "went against my orders and tried to play hero by getting the man back. They were both hit by a piece of falling debris-"

"They were _what?_ " Even John couldn't stop the shock from entering his words. "God Scott, from you and Virg? How bad?"

Gordon clenched his fists tightly to stop himself from yelling at his brother. He had _hurt_ Alan. Alright, not intentionally, but _still._ Scott sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. He looked all but ready to collapse on the floor, no doubt as concerned about Alan as they were, but trying to hold himself together. "Yes from Virg and I, and it's not dire. He's got skin scraped off his arm and a twisted ankle…well those are the surface wounds anyway. We'll need Brains to run a scan-"

"He's not here," John said quietly, already heading in the direction of the med bay. What a way to be greeted at his return home. "I'll set up the scanner and then Virg can have a look. Bring Al down straight away when he arrives."

Scott nodded and checked the time, anxiously awaiting his brother's arrival. Gordon couldn't hold it in any longer, _nobody_ hurt his little brother. No doubt Scott and Virgil blamed Alan for getting hurt too, which only made it worse. "Freaking hell Scotty! How could you mess up so bad?"

"Do you think I _meant_ to?" Scott hissed. He looked so shaken Gordon almost backed down, until he said, "Maybe if you hadn't _shown_ him that defying me was somehow heroic then we wouldn't be in this mess."

Gordon took a step backward. "Excuse _me?_ " He hadn't even _been_ there and somehow the blame had fallen on him. Well just _great_ , perhaps he was more of a burden then he thought.

Scott sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, not wanting to start another argument with his fiery younger brother. "You know how much he looks up to you; he'll do anything that you do. I'm just saying, it might have influenced him a little."

"You're saying a whole lot more than that."

"Yeah well, take whatever you want from it Gords. I'm not in the mood for this."

Gordon bit his lip as Scott turned away, no doubt heading toward Two's silo where he could be ready to help Alan. Gordon contemplated following him, but knew it would just make matters worse. He wondered how the rest of the rescue had gone. _Had the workers got out alright? Had the one with Alan survived?_ But it all seemed far less important when his brother was hurt. Gordon knew he was never meant to think like that. The people they were rescuing, they were more important than any of them. That's what Jeff had taught them. But Gordon couldn't help but care more about his family. He knew it was the same with the others; perhaps they were just better at hiding it.

How could things go wrong so _badly?_

Waiting was the worst part of any day for Gordon. Whether it was waiting in a que, or waiting during a rescue, or simply waiting for food. It was a relentless energy that possessed him most of the time. He hated standing still, he disliked not actively doing something, and he always had to fidget during debriefs or meetings. That was something that had annoyed Jeff to no end, especially when it was just the two of them waiting for news on a rescue. Gordon would tap his feet, click pens, bounce up and down, pace the room, stretch, or just shift every few seconds, all which became incredibly distracting and would force Jeff to snap. But Gordon couldn't help it; he just had to get nervous or excited energy out _somehow._

So now he sat on the couch, got up from the couch, trotted up the stairs, walked around the table, looked out the window, moved back to the stairs, practically fell down them, before starting all over again. Even on hearing 'Two land Gordon continued to wander his routine like a madman. Up, down, back, around, forward, straight and stop. He heard commotion as Virgil and Scott helped Alan toward the med bay. But still Gordon walked his route.

He wasn't needed right now. Virgil was the medic, Scott would fill the older brother role, John would be there for calming purposes, and Gordon would just get in the way. So he kept walking. He got faster and faster each time that he did it, until he practically broke into a jog. _Isn't everything a game to you? Well, apparently you're not very good at helping people. You're grounded until I know that you're not going to be a liability._ As his brothers comments floated around his head, Gordon felt an idea press heavier and heavier upon him, one that had been forming over the past days.

Gordon stopped walking.

He had to find Jeff.

It was the only way to get International Rescue back to the way it had been.

The others would be fine without _him_. Gordon would go and find Jeff, the person they truly needed, and then everything would be ok again. Of course the Global Defense force had been searching for him, but perhaps they missed something. Something that one of his sons would understand. But International Rescue couldn't function without Scott, or Virgil, or John, even Alan. But it _could_ function without Gordon. So he had to make that choice.

John cleared his throat from where he stood in the doorway. Gordon jumped and turned towards him, earning a concerned look from his brother, "Allie wants to see you."

Gordon nodded, slipping on an easy smile to assure John that everything was alright. John didn't believe it for a second but he didn't say anything. What was there to say? So Gordon trotted after the space monitor, his heart a little heavier, but his mind a whole lot clearer.

Alan blinked up at Gordon. His face was pale, eyes tired, and bruises were blossoming on the sides of his arm. One shoulder had been bandaged by Virgil, who was fussing about with various medications. Alan's left leg was currently suspended. Worry attempted to infiltrate Gordon's words, but he held it back. By the looks of it Scott was worrying enough for all of them. The eldest Tracy stood by Alan's side, arms crossed, an annoyingly stoic expression on his face.

"Al, have I not told you to look before you cross the road?" Gordon teased, trying to draw his tone back to one of flippant humour.

Alan instantly brightened. He shifted himself so he could look at his brother, wincing in pain as he did so. "Hey, there's no safe place to go when things are falling from the sky!"

Virgil flinched at his comment. His hand slipped on a vial he was holding, sending it tumbling to the ground. At the smashing of glass they all jumped. Virgil cursed loudly, before shakily trying to pick the shards up.

"I'll do it Virgil." John said, emerging from the doorway. The med bay barely fit the five of them in there at once. "How about you go and shower. You look like you've been living in the desert for days."

"And you look like you've lived in space for a month…" Virgil muttered, though he sighed as he realised John was right. Virgil's blue uniform had practically turned brown, and his face was coated with a fine layer of grime. John patted his younger brother on the shoulder before giving him an encouraging push towards the door. Virgil continued to glance guiltily towards Alan, actions of today not the only thing he was sorry for, but he left the room without saying a word.

John cleared his throat and sent a direct stare towards Scott. "You better go too, you look terrible."

"But-"

"You aren't helping anyone just standing there. Go on, get."

Scott's eyes slid towards Alan, obviously ready to have words with their younger brother. Whether it was an apology or a lecture Gordon wasn't particularly keen to find out. John just shook his head, signaling that now was not the time. Scott finally conceded and made his way from the room, letting only a crack of his emotion show behind his passive façade.

Alan instantly tried to sit up straighter. "Phew, I thought they'd sit vigil around me or something. Those guys sure know how to smother."

"They're just worried, and sorry," John set about picking up shards of glass, occasionally holding one up to the light to observe how it looked. Gordon smiled softly, trust _John_ to try and find the beauty in broken situations.

"Yeah _and_ angry," Alan leant back against his pillow, rolling his eyes for Gordon's benefit. Gordon grinned; it was like Alan had done this for some camaraderie reason. Technically Gordon should be angry at Alan for putting his life on the line, but that would be immensely hypocritical, even if it did give him an insight into what Scott was feeling _all_ the time.

The aquanaut climbed onto the bed with his brother and stretched out, nudging Alan gently. "There's plenty of that going round, don't you worry. But… _hey,"_ Gordon widened his eyes and sent an exaggeratedly surprised look towards his second eldest brother. "Did you realise John's here?"

Alan raised an eyebrow. "That's John? I thought it was just the household help."

"Oh jeez, it's been so long since I've seen him, maybe you're right."

John looked towards them both, a sly smile dancing upon his lips. "Hey, I get the memo, come home more often. I will if you all stop arguing."

"But _that's_ the reason you're here…" Gordon pointed out.

"So we should argue more!" Alan concluded, almost excitedly. John just sighed and picked up the bag of glass. Without word of goodbye, he simply glided from the room. Gordon half wondered if he would keep his new found treasures.

Alan chuckled softly and leant his head against Gordon's shoulder. The youngest wiggled the toes on his injured leg, drawing breath sharply as he stretched something he wasn't supposed too. "Gordy, do you think I'm grounded now?"

Gordon paused for a moment, scanning his injured brother up and down, "No, I'm sure you'll be fine."

"…really?"

"No you idiot! You can't exactly go and save people like _that_ can you?"

Alan's face fell. "Spose not."

"Come on Al, a couple of days and you'll be back on your feet, ready to be squashed all over again."

"Hey, I got that worker out of the way."

"But you got pancaked instead? Nice."

"I _wasn't_ pancaked. Something slipped from 'Two's claws when they were moving away from the cave. It barely even touched me."

"Oh, so you got injured falling over then?"

Alan pouted. "Well, _no_ , ok it might have _brushed_ me…and then pinned me down…but it's not as bad as it looks. The thing I'm worried about is Virg and Scott using me even _less_ on the field now that this has happened. It wasn't my fault! I was just doing what you did!"

Gordon felt his stomach turn at Alan's words. Perhaps he had more of an influence over his younger brother then he realised. _That_ was a bad thing. Gordon didn't particularly want himself to be a role model for anyone; he was still just a child himself at heart. "Yeah well…" Gordon bit his lip, trying to decide what to say. Eh, what the hell, he would just tell him the truth. Ruffling Alan's hair, Gordon grinned, "I'm proud of you kid."

Alan growled and pushed his hand away, quickly flattening his blonde hair. "How many times have I told you _not_ to call me kid? It's bad enough with number one and three thinking I'm still a toddler!"

Gordon chuckled and leant back. Quietly he uttered, "I think they're both really cut up about this Al. The last thing they want is to hurt you."

Alan nodded with a knowing look that would rival John's. "Oh I know they are. I thought I'd let them sweat for a bit before I tell them all is forgiven. Who knows, maybe it will get them to talk to one another?"

The silent _or push them further apart_ was something both Gordon and Alan understood, but neither said it. "They will sort it out," Gordon said quietly, but he was already trying to think of ways he could leave the island undetected. He couldn't let his brothers know, they would try to stop him, or maybe go with him, but this was something he needed to do on his own.

Alan closed his eyes and leant into his brother, as though he could sense the very thoughts running through his mind. Gordon, for the moment, felt contented.

ooooo

That evening John had gathered them all in the lounge, his thin form standing before them like principal about to deliver an inspiring speech. Gordon couldn't imagine John giving any sort of speech considering he wasn't fond of using words all that much, but still, he had the air of authority that managed to get them all sitting in the one room. Even Alan had been dragged up from the infirmary, but he was happy to be pandered to by his older brothers.

A news article flashed onto the TV describing the rescue from the morning. No footage of his brothers or the 'birds were broadcasted, instead there were various interviews from survivors of the incident, many commenting on the slow and somewhat sloppily handled rescue. This had Virgil muttering beneath his breath, Scott glaring angrily at the screen, and Alan boldly declaring, "those _ungrateful_ basta-"

" _Alan_ ," Scott warned, shaking his head. It was quite obvious he had been wanting to say the exact same thing, but reigned himself in. "You know gratitude isn't the reason we do this."

"I know but we _did_ save their lives! I almost got crushed for one of them."

"Yes but-"

"It's just rubbish media, so that's enough of that," John cleared his throat, switching the TV to a blank channel. "Now listen, I've got something to show you all. I know you might be a little surprised, but I got Grandma to pick these up today when she went back over to the mainland."

Gordon wasn't the only one startled at this, he hadn't even been aware their Grandmother had known that John was returning. It did make reasons for her abundance of food shopping a whole lot clearer. She had returned with Brains that afternoon, and was so shocked at Alan being injured that she practically ignored her second grandson.

"How long is this going to take Johnny?" Virgil asked quietly, large circles beneath his eyes indicating how tired he was. "I've got to go talk with brains about modifications to 'Two's grapple-"

"Nope." John mimed zipping his lips. "No work talk Virg, this is after hours now, you just get to relax."

Virgil sunk into the couch. Next to him, Gordon chuckled, "what on earth is _relaxing?_ "

John's lips pulled into that mysterious smile as he flicked something onto the screen. A still image of a small boy with dark brown hair and blue eyes appeared on the TV. He was stood in the middle of a garden area, looking no older than four, and still had that similar worried expression plastered across his face…

Instantly Scott sat straight up on the couch, mouth dropping. "Uh John please tell me that's _not_ what I think It is."

John just smiled

As realization dawned on Alan, he let out an excited yelp. "No? _No?_ Is that you Scotty? John! Is this a home video? I didn't even know that we had any! Well, except for that school play one…"

John tilted his head curiously. "Have we never shown them to you? I could have sworn that we had."

Alan met Gordon's eye and the two of them shrugged simultaneously. He vaguely remembered watching old home videos when he was a little younger, but he certainly didn't realise they still _had_ any. Something flickered inside him, whether nerves or excitement he couldn't tell.

"It's been years since I've seen these…" Scott muttered quietly, running a hand over his leg in thought. Gordon could tell he was thinking over what John was doing. _Show them what they used to be like, make them laugh, show them Jeff, let them remember they were a family._

"Well?" John turned to his audience. "Any objections?"

There were halfhearted mumbles from all around claiming that they would rather _not_ see themselves in their younger years, but none of them pressed too hard. Gordon _was_ curious to see the footage, and even more curious to see if John's plan would work.

John nodded; pleased with the reaction, before flicking the play button and letting it roll.

 _Young Scott grabbed the lens of the camera, peering into it as though he would be able to see who was on the other side. His brown hair had recently been cut short and he was dressed in a rather upmarket outfit for a preschooler. There was a loud chuckle at the other end of the camera, a large hand moving around to detach his son from the lens._

 _"_ _Alright Scotty,"_ hearing Jeff's low voice made Gordon start. He almost turned around to see if he was actually in the room, but held back seeing the others enraptured by the screen. _"Who are we going to see today?"_

 _Little Scott wiggled excitedly. He looked around him before breaking into a grin. "Mummy!"_

" _That's right, did you hear that John?" The camera swiveled towards Jeff's side, revealing a small boy toddling beside him. He had a shaggy cut of platinum blonde hair in his younger years, and was sucking nervously on his thumb, the other hand travelling towards his father's spare one. "We're going to see mummy…and who else?"_

 _John looked up at his father, blinking at him owlishly._

The toddler didn't say anything, just stared, which was so like John that it made Gordon laugh. Soon Alan was joining in. John glared at them both, "hey, I was cute," he defended before mimicking the face his younger self was displaying.

 _"_ _I know!" Scott called excitedly, drawing the cameras attention back towards him. He was racing ahead down a paved path and Jeff was struggling to keep up with him. "Viggle will be there."_

 _Jeff chuckled, the camera wobbling as he bent down to pick John up so that he could catch up with his eldest. "What was that?"_

 _"_ _Viggle! I get to be a brother 'gain."_

 _Jeff laughed out rightly this time, realizing he had heard right. John whimpered somewhere close to the camera at the sudden movement. "That's right; you do get to be a brother again. But Virgil is just a baby remember, so we have to be gentle."_

 _"_ _I'm gentle with Johnny!" Scott protested, zig zagging across the path like a drunk person. John whimpered again as though protesting this statement._

 _"_ _What's wrong little man?" Jeff asked, turning the camera back on John. Eyes the colour of sea glass looked back at the camera with a dejected expression. "You don't want to be a big brother?"_

 _John shook his head, placing his thumb back in his mouth._

 _"_ _I thought that's what you asked Santa for? A new baby?"_

 _John's face crumpled before he buried his head in his father's shoulder._

 _"_ _Well," Jeff turned the camera towards his own face, a much younger version of their father appearing on screen. Here, his hair was still brown (which was something Gordon never remembered seeing) and there was something lighter in his eyes. "Here you go mother, here's the boys first meeting with Virgil. He's bigger than either of these ones were, I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not…well, this footage should tide you over, but we're all looking forward to your visit next week. You could make it sooner if you want?" Jeff grinned hopefully before clicking the camera off._

"Wow Johnny, if you didn't want me around you should have said something!" Virgil joked. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, a relaxed grin spread across his face, looking more engaged than he had been in a while.

"Yeah, they already had one perfect son, why did they need more?" John retorted, smile growing as the next footage appeared on the screen.

Virgil shrugged. "Back-up?"

"What was I? The test run?" Scott asked, shaking his head in amusement. The three of them chuckled and Gordon felt some of the tension in the room already begin to alleviate. Alan and Gordon shared an amused glance. Though there really wasn't much of an age gap between any of the siblings, the three years between Gordon and Virgil separated the elder siblings from the younger. Due to this Alan and Gordon had been affectionately dubbed the 'tinies'. These videos were an insight into the years and bond they had never really been a part of

The camera flicked back on and instantly they were hit with an image of their mother.

There was intake of breath all round, Gordon filled with the sudden and horrid realization that he had forgotten what she looked like. She lay in a hospital bed, thin face drawn and pale. Strands of scraggly blonde hair slid to her shoulders, and her eyes were ringed with dark circles, but once she grinned up at the camera her appearance changed instantly.

 _"_ _Hi Ruth!" She called, strong voice sending shivers through Gordon. He remembered that sound. Young Scott was sitting next to his mother, while John was curled at the foot of her bed. Lucille Tracy held a small bundle, tufts of dark hair the only link with grown Virgil. Jeff turned the camera towards the baby who was wriggling noiselessly._

"I _was_ chubby," Virgil commented.

"W _as?_ " Gordon teased.

 _"_ _Virgil can't wait to meet you," Lucille continued talking to the camera. Scott reached a small hand to pat his brother on the head, giggling at how soft his hair felt. Gently, their mother shifted half of Virgil's weight onto Scott, instructing him to support his head. Scott did as he was asked; beaming at his father as though he was proving how gentle he could be._

 _"_ _John Sweetie, do you want to come say hi?" she asked softly. John shook his head adamantly and remained as far away as he could while still being close to their mother._

 _"_ _He's going to be here for a while John, you might as well meet him," Jeff said, nudging his second eldest on the shoulder. "He's not scary."_

 _"_ _Put…him back in ground," John whispered, eyes glued to the new baby._

 _Lucy snorted, sharing an 'I told you so' look with Jeff. Jeff cleared his throat, "Ah, why would we put him back in the ground Johnny?"_

 _"_ _Cause that's where he came from."_

 _"_ _Don't be silly John," Scott shook his very knowledgeable head, "he came from the shop not the ground."_

 _"_ _Then take him back."_

 _The camera shook as Jeff tried not to laugh. Lucy shook her head and pulled Virgil away from Scott. He looked upset at having the responsibility taken away from him. "No, we're not taking him back baby; we're going to keep him. He's your new brother, which means you have to look after him, ok?"_

 _Scott nodded eagerly; John just curled up some more, studying the baby like he was a being from another planet. Jeff turned the camera back on himself, said a few more words to Ruth, before shutting it off as Virgil began to cry._

They were all silent for a moment, staring at the space where their mother had just been. Gordon felt a twinge of sorrow at the thought that now neither of their parents were with them to look back on old memories. John's plan however, was apparently having an effect. Virgil had been glancing sheepishly towards Scott, while their eldest brother just pretended he wasn't affected by the tape at all. "I think the name Viggle should have stuck," he stated.

Virgil rolled his eyes, lips twitching in amusement.

"Are there any more?" Alan asked excitedly, considerably brighter upon seeing their mother. As hard as it was for Gordon to remember her it was even worse for Alan.

John nodded, "how about we jump forward a few years…"

 _Carols played in the background as the camera displayed the lounge of their first home together. A tall Christmas tree, lavishly covered in tinsel and baubles, was the center piece of the room. Striped and dotted presents were spread beneath, and two of the boys were playing under it. A bell like laugh from behind the camera indicated it was Lucy's turn to film._

 _Scott, around eleven, turned at the sound of his mother's voice. "Mum, don't get that thing out again!"_

 _"_ _Oh but its Christmas!" Lucy protested, walking towards where her eldest and youngest were playing beneath the tree. Baby Alan was rocking back and forth, a Christmas bow stuck to the front of his forehead. "And I forgot to film last year!"_

"Is that me?" Alan asked excitedly, almost in wonder that they actually had footage of him.

"Sure is sprout, you used to be so cute," Scott shook his head in disappointment.

" _Used_ to?" Alan pouted.

 _"_ _What are you doing angel?" Lucy asked, moving the camera down to her son's level. Scott, on his knees, had Alan's hands in his and was wiggling them to the tune of the Christmas carol. Alan was giggling manically, the bits of ribbon falling in front of his face making him laugh even harder. He couldn't have been older than three if their mother was still alive._

 _"_ _Virgil wanted to play the piano so I said I'd stay with Alan. Even though it was his turn…" Scott grinned despite his words. "But I don't mind."_

 _"_ _Thank you, Allie's having fun, aren't you baby?"_

 _Alan giggled louder and bounced up and down. Lucy chuckled, getting back on her feet she turned the camera towards the couch where John was lying. Even at ten he was already long and lanky, completely absorbed into one of his books. Their mother gave a running commentary as she panned the room, "and there's my little star reading…up here we have the homemade decorations that the boys have been making…oh and there's my muse practicing his Christmas songs." She zoomed in on Virgil playing the piano, who looked up shyly as she did so. He was just hitting the keys like a true beginner, but Lucy sounded equally as proud._

 _"_ _Now, let's go see how the kitchen boys are getting on…" She turned the camera towards her face. "For some reason Jeff decided to cook. He hates cooking, and to make things worse," she chuckled again, "Gordon decided to join him."_

In the present day lounge the rest of them groaned. Gordon felt truly offended that they didn't have more faith in his cooking abilities. "Definitely gets his skills from Grandma…" Alan said, screwing up his nose. The others whole heartedly agreed.

 _Lucille snuck into the kitchen, catching an exasperated Jeff with the camera. Their father was wearing an apron, apparently attempting to mix ingredients in a bowl. He had half of it spilt down his front, and appeared to have egg dripping down his shoulder._

 _"_ _Mummy!" Young Gordon squawked as he spotted her. He was short, even for a five year old, and his hair was splayed in all directions. "Look what I did!" Gordon didn't point towards any spectacular food creation, but instead at the mess on his father._

 _"_ _Yes, you've been a great help," Jeff said dryly, turning to shake his head at his wife. He whispered "help me" to her, gesturing both at the bowl and his son._

 _"_ _Gordon, have you been throwing eggs at your father? I thought we told you not to do that anymore," Lucy chided, but seeing his eyes grow wide she ruffled his hair affectionately._

 _"_ _I didn't throw them I just squashed them," Gordon replied boldly, scraping his foot back and forth across the lino. "It's Christmas and Santa won't mind!"_

 _"_ _No, but someone else might," Jeff said, rolling his eyes._

The clip cut away to various shots of the evening; Virgil playing them all a song, Alan attempting to sing, even John reading them the entire Christmas story. It was an evening of laughter and light, and it made Gordon relive his sadness as he realised it was the last one they had with their mother.

They watched a few more, at one point all in hysterics at one that filmed parts of the school production they had been in. Scott had downright refused to be involved so sat in the audience with their parents. Virgil had been a musician in the orchestra, John played the part of a tree, and Gordon was a flower fairy who did a lot of interpretive dance. Then there were clips from times at the fair, evenings at their grandparents, camping trips, even just quick shots of Alan and Gordon sleeping on top of Jeff, or him reading them all a story.

After a while the videos stopped. Alan had been no more than three in them, and Scott never progressed past twelve. Jeff never recorded again after the death of his wife, and Gordon didn't blame him. He had captured golden memories, and they wouldn't want to be reminded how they all were _after_ her death.

Alan's head had dropped onto Scott's shoulder, eyelids drooping as exhaustion (and painkillers) from the day's events threatened to overwhelm him. The eldest wrapped an arm around his brother's waist and attempted to lift him up.

"Let me help," Virgil said instantly, at Alan's side before he could get an answer. He and Scott shared a glance, signaling the return of the famous telepathy, which made Gordon breathe a sigh of relief. Now he could rest easy knowing that they would sort it out.

"M'fine," Alan mumbled, but he allowed himself to be escorted. His leg had been badly sprained and would no doubt keep him out of action for a few days. "Thanks Johnny!" he called, "that was some trip down memory lane."

" _Our_ memories you mean," Virgil chuckled. "You were still a baby."

"Yeah whatever, it was good anyway. Mum was amazing, wasn't she?"

"You bet she was kid."

Scott nodded, shooting a meaningful glance towards John. "She really was..." he paused. "So was Dad, and we were all a whole lot cuter than we are now. Thanks Johnny."

John dipped his head in recognition, and the others left the room. Gordon grinned. His brothers sure could say a lot in such a little amount of words. "Such a simple solution really…" Gordon pondered, hitting John on the arm. "I don't know why I didn't think of it."

"Because I'm the genius, that's why. You think it will work?"

"It'll get Scott and Virg talking, that's for sure."

"…and you and Scott?"

Gordon shrugged before winking at his brother. "You'll just have to find out."

John took that as a yes. With a lighter heart, he watched Gordon leave the room. Plan _home video_ had been a success, and he sure didn't mind delving into the happy memories. Sure there had been some bad times too, but they didn't need to be reminded of those now. Now they needed something to draw them back together, to remember what Jeff had created International Rescue for.

Proud of himself, John turned off the lights and headed toward his room. Little did he know that his plan had set Gordon's decision firmly into action. When Gordon watched those videos, he saw how they revolved around Jeff. He saw his mother, and remembered that International Rescue was for _her._ He reminded himself that the world, and other families like theirs, needed International Rescue functioning _well,_ far more than his brothers needed him around.

And to do that, they needed Jeff. Sure, tonight might get them talking again, might tide them over for a few more rescues. But what happens when things start to go downhill again? They couldn't afford to leave it, Gordon had to move now. So that's what he did. In the quiet of the night, when everyone else was fast asleep, he packed his bag and headed down toward the beach.

ooooo

It was when Gordon didn't show up for his morning swim that Scott knew something was wrong.

He himself was feeling refreshed, and lighter, ready to set about the day making things right with his brothers. Perhaps he would even hold a meeting where they could tell him what he needed to do better, what would make it easier for them.

But when Scott had returned from his run to find John was the only one up, it was a certain feeling of dread that filled him. There was no disturbance to the pool at all, and Gordon _never_ missed a swim. When Scott didn't reply to John's greeting, even the astronaut looked a little nervous.

Without explanation Scott raced upstairs. _Gordon would just be sleeping. He would be tired after last night; perhaps he wanted to try something new. Maybe he changed his swim time, maybe he was feeling sore, maybe he had already been…maybe…_ Scott pushed the door open to his brothers room, and saw what he most feared. An empty bed. With a sinking feeling and shaking hands, he reached to clasp the small piece of paper left on the pillow.

Reading it, his heart practically split in two.

"…Scott?" John's voice from the doorway made him jump.

Screwing the paper up in his hand, Scott turned to his brother. "Gordon's gone."


	5. Chapter 5

_Note: Here 'tis! A bit of brother angst for you all, because that's always fun. Also, because not a lot is known about Jeff's crash, from here on in i'm going to be making some details up about that. Thank you for reading, feedback would be greatly appreciated! Enjoy!_

 _ooooo_

Scott sunk into his father's desk chair, allowing the familiar smell of coffee and polished wood to overwhelm him. For as long as he could remember those two scents had been associated with his father, but this time it didn't bring him the usual comfort. Scott buried his head in his hands. This had to be one of the _worst_ weeks. Scratch that, one of the worst _months_ of his life, and the nightmare just kept going.

Jeff was missing. That alone would have been enough to break him if he didn't have the rest of his family to look after. Scott Tracy had to be the strong one, the one that kept pushing them forward, the one that held them together. Night after night he would listen to his brother's worry about what had happened, worry about what was _going_ to happen, while he sat there and tried to convince them everything would be alright. Who was he to know that it would be alright? He couldn't let them see him break, that would just spiral everything out of control.

So he held himself together. But then the rescues started going downhill. They were losing lives at danger zones, Scott almost lost Gordon, he and Virgil were at odds, he almost _killed_ his youngest brother, and now to top it all off Gordon had left to try and find their father.

Scott slammed a hand down on the desk. _So much for holding everyone together._ Gordon was practically still a kid and Scott had just let him slip out of his grasp. It hadn't even crossed his mind that the second youngest was struggling. Well, not before these past few days. He always hid things with a smile and a line of easy wit. _Why hadn't he told them what he was thinking?_

Alongside the note, Gordon had left behind his watch. He knew that was the easiest way they could track him, locking onto his signal they could find him within a day and drag him back to the Island. But it would be _much_ harder now. Not to mention the small matter of keeping International Rescue going while trying to look.

At the moment they had two functioning ground operatives, three if they could spare John from Five. _But could they spare John? Was he even experienced enough to be on rescues? Who would drive Four? How long would it take Alan to be back up and running? Should they put him in charge of a land vehicle?_

Scott found himself drawn back to the question he'd been asking himself this whole time. What would Jeff Tracy do? He would probably hire a few guys to pick Gordon up while simultaneously running International Rescue as smoothly as ever.

But what would _Scott_ do?

Scott clenched his fists tightly and let out a frustrated growl. _Why did he have to be the eldest? Why did he have to make these sorts of decisions?_ He was also trying to keep up with various forms for Tracy Industries (who were constantly trying to get him back to New York), while having to confer with Brains about every possible update, while _also_ being first responder, field commander, big _brother_ …He sighed heavily. Curling up and hiding beneath his father's desk sounded like a good idea right about now. Sometimes, it was all too much, even for Scott Tracy.

After a few moments of silence, only one decision came to mind. Scott needed a drink. A _strong_ one. He knew Jeff kept a secret store of whisky around here somewhere, hiding it from Grandma Tracy's disapproving gaze…He ducked down to try and find any secret compartments.

"Hiding?" Virgil's low voice made Scott jump, head smacking on the corner of the desk as he tried to sit back up. Virgil's stocky form was silhouetted against the doorway, holding two mugs of what was hopefully whisky…? No, it was just coffee. Virgil passed a cup towards his older brother, eyeing him cautiously. Scott took it, wondering if this was some sort of peace offering.

Scott tried to regain any part of his composure that had slipped. He had to put on a brave face for _everyone._ "Ah no I was just looking for…something."

Virgil grabbed a chair and pulled it towards where Scott was sitting. He locked him with his unmovable gaze. "The whisky is in the bottom filing cabinet on the right."

Scott merely raised an eyebrow, not needing to question how Virgil figured out what he wanted. His middle brother could read him scarily well even if they had been out of kilter for the last few days. Scott still had things to say and ask, but now just _didn't_ feel like the time. He didn't want to lose another brother as fast as he'd lost Gordon. Some part of him hoped that John's plan of reconnecting them the night before was all that needed to be done. "Wait…" Scott paused as a thought struck him. "How do _you_ know where Dad's drinks are?"

Virgil met his stare. "I asked him."

Surprised by the simplicity, Scott just nodded. He had no energy in him to put up a fight about Virgil drinking at all. They were both adults after all, and he was sensible enough to keep it separate from Rescue times. Silence descended upon them and for a long time, neither pilot decided to break it.

Finally Virgil sighed deeply, before placing his cup down and turning seriously towards his brother. "Scott, I need you to do something for me."

Scott glanced up, feeling a rush of guilt at the worry that was clear in Virgil's expression.

"I need you to drop the act that everything's fine. I need you to start tearing apart walls and yelling down phone lines. Ok? Can you do that?"

Scott drew back and shook his head. He tried to keep his tone as even as possible. "No, I can't do that Virg."

"Oh come _on._ " Virgil growled, just about ready to tear out his hair. "Make me feel goddamn _normal_ for having feelings about this! I don't need your stoic front; I need you to be _human._ "

"Dad would have remained calm-"

"I don't need Dad!" Virgil snapped, swiping his hand across the desk to knock items off it. He pointed a finger at Scott. "I need _you._ My brother, my best _friend_ , to tell me that you are just as terrified and messed up as I am, because I'm feeling pretty messed up. I know we've been at each other's throats but that doesn't matter anymore! Talk to me man; tell me what you're thinking."

Scott blinked at his brother, shocked by the sudden outburst of emotion. But he was _right._ This was Virgil he was talking too, not some worker he needed to distance himself from. Scott had been pushing Virgil away for the last few days, maybe they _both_ needed this. "Ok," without even thinking the words Scott had been wishing to say were on his tongue, "If it's my thoughts that you want then you can have them, because I certainly could do without them. Of course I'm terrified! We're all falling apart and I don't know how to stop it. Now my… _our_ little brother is out there on his own and I…" Scott bit his lip, clasping tightly to the cup in his hand to stop from shaking. "I don't know how to _fix this._ "

Virgil expelled breath slowly, shoulders slumping. "Thank you."

Scott tensed, feeling a wave of anger pulse through him. Half tempted to smash his cup on the floor he tried to hold back, and lashed out with words instead. "I don't know what to _do_ Virg…" he hissed, "Gordon's out there chasing a false hope! Even _worse_ , a dangerous hope. Do you think this is on me? Do you think I pushed him away? This isn't what I _wanted._ I was trying to…to keep you all _safe…_ but I just ended up…" he screwed his eyes shut. "Gordon was right, I'm not Dad. I couldn't keep us all together, I _failed_ him, and now I've failed you, I've failed all of you-"

 _"_ _Scott."_ Virgil commanded, forgetting any anger he held towards his brother. He placed a hand on his arm. "Not everything falls to you. You have to understand that, it's not healthy for you to be thinking this all the time. Especially when you don't tell _me_ about it. This is on all of us, especially Gordon. He made his choice to leave IR, to leave _us_ and I can't…" Virgil shook his head, squeezing his brother's forearm. "I can't get my head around it."

"He's doing it for IR." Scott said quietly, the remnants of the crumpled note before him. "He thinks we need Dad. Hell, who am I kidding, we _do_ need Dad. If I could go back to just being Field Commander then I would be _thrilled._ "

"So would I…" Virgil muttered bitterly.

"Yeah but he won't _find_ him…" Scott tapped his fingers on the desk distractedly. "The Global Defense force has searched, they're still searching, for him. What can Gordon do? We know the Hood had something to do with Dad's crash but that's _it…_ that's nothing to go on! We need him back here."

"I agree," It was music to Scott's ears to hear those words from Virgil. It was then he knew he had his brother back on his side. "But we can't spare any of us to go and find him, especially not with Alan injured. We need to be here for rescues."

"I know, I know…" Scott shook his head in anguish. "And I can't _think_ what to…god Virg, I don't want to be in charge anymore. I don't know how Dad ever survived doing this for so long, but I can't handle it anymore!"

"You can handle it," the ghost of a smile traced Virgil's lips. "I know you can. Better than anyone, you've just gotta stop holding things back man. _Share_ them with Johnny and I, we can help you, that's what we're here for. Dad never did it alone, he had you. And now you've got us."

Scott felt like crumpling into a heap. He smiled a small, yet appreciative, smile at his brother. He did know they were there, he always had, it was just that sometimes he'd just rather not drag them into everything. Sparing his brothers pain was what he was there for, right? "I'm sorry Virg, for breathing down your neck all the time. I know you're more than capable of doing things on your own-"

"Yeah, yeah," Virgil waved him away. "You're just a control freak; I've known that for my whole life."

"Oh really? How come you got so mad about it these past days then?"

Virgil shrugged, staring at the wall in thought. "It all got too much, especially when you pretend that you're not worrying, or you make different decisions as a commander than you would as a brother."

Scott raised his head, meeting Virgil's eye. "How so?"

"The other day when I wanted to go back in after Gordon and you told me no. If _you_ had been there Instead of me, you would have been on his tail."

"…perhaps."

"And if _you_ had been in with that victim, you would have stayed with her too."

Scott sighed, knowing he had been caught out. "As a field agent _yes_ , as a brother _yes_ , as a commander _no._ "

"See, you're a hypocrite Scott Tracy, sometimes we just need you in brother mode instead of commander."

"Alright, alright I get it. I guess I just don't want you guys doing what I'd do, considering its reckless half of the time. That's fair enough, isn't it?"

Virgil narrowed his eyes and studied Scott, before letting out a reluctant nod. "I suppose…I guess I wouldn't want the tinies doing what I do as well."

"The perks of being a brother."

"Hmm."

"I'm going to kill him when we find him," Scott said quietly, dark brows drawing together in an expression of confused anger. "I mean really, of all the _stupid_ things to go and do-"

"Are you telling me that if you had the chance, you wouldn't go and search for Dad?" John's voice made both brothers start, heads quickly turning to the doorframe which John waltzed through.

Scott didn't answer.

"You really are a hypocrite, Scott Tracy." John pulled up a chair and sat down, kicking his long legs out in front of him in an almost relaxed position. Scott frowned, wondering _how_ he could still be so calm. Scott wished he was as good at it as John was.

"Oh you heard that did you?" Scott asked suspiciously, wondering how they hadn't spotted John earlier. Then remembering it was _John_ , and that the man was practically a shadow. He was used to not making a noise up in space, and it transcended down on earth. "Anyway Gordon _didn't_ have the chance to go find Dad, he just _left._ "

"Would you have let him go if he told you?"

"…no."

"Exactly. We all would have stopped him, and he's a smart kid. He would have known that."

"So what do you think we should do?" Virgil asked, almost defensively. "He wasn't wearing a tracker; he no doubt dropped the boat off at a port somewhere and just moved from there. We could try and trace his movements?"

Scott nodded at the idea. "He might head to the GD headquarters first, right? And he'll have to use his credit card somewhere. We _will_ find him."

"And what then?" John rolled his head to one side, questioning both statements. "He comes back halfheartedly, resents us for dragging him away from what he was trying to do, everything turns to hell again. Sure, great plan."

Scott didn't appreciate the sarcasm that practically dripped from his closest brother's tone. "What do _you_ suggest then, oh wise one?"

"I think we should leave him."

" _What?"_ Scott's annoyance at this was echoed in Virgil's tone. The middle brother sat back, appraising John. "How on _earth_ is that a good idea?"

"He'll end up wrecking half the city," Scott muttered.

"Or wrecking himself."

"Or getting lost-"

"Or injured, or _killed..._ "

"Stop being so _dramatic_ ," John held up both of his hands to get them to stop talking. He rose from the chair gracefully, like a jungle cat uncurling from a nap, before placing his hands on the desk and looking Scott in the eye. "Think about it. Dad disappeared over a month ago, and none of us have really had time to come to terms with it, we're all too busy. So maybe _this_ , this is how Gordon comes to terms with it."

Scott narrowed his eyes, feeling a little calmer under the influence of John's strong gaze. "So you're saying we just let him…what? Do some soul searching? Wander around looking for Dad but finding himself in the process?"

John chuckled. "Come on, we all know Gordon, he'll get fed up or bored eventually. He'll come back on his own accord, and when he does-"

"I'll kill him."

"- _he'll_ be a bit happier. Knowing he tried at least. In the meantime we just keep doing what we do."

Scott bit his lip. He didn't like the idea. Life without Gordon was like losing one of his limbs, it would make it a whole hell of a lot harder to function. Virgil was on the same page, very wary about leaving his closest brother alone. "But what if he can't handle it? How will he get around? How will we know he's alright?"

John rolled his eyes and flicked his brother on the head. "There's this thing called _public_ _transport_ Virgil. There are also these things called _phones._ He's not stupid, and he's lived on his own before. Seriously, do you not remember the times we were apart? College? Air Force? NASA? Oceanography?"

Virgil smiled briefly, remembering his times at Denver, before nodding. "Ok, ok, you're right. It's just…I don't know, I guess it just feels different now."

"Yeah, because you two have grown into a middle-aged couple, bickering and worrying all the time. Give the kid some space."

"I suppose we could _all_ use some space," Scott said quietly, eyes flickering towards Virgil. Virgil shot him a ' _don't you dare worry about me too'_ glare. Scott shrugged. He couldn't help it. Virgil looked tired, which was a given after the last week.

"I've already got _plenty_ of space," John joked, quite proud of his space related puns. The other two groaned, Virgil leaning forward to throw a pen at his brother. They all slumped back into silence, coming to the mutual decision that John was right, as _always._

Virgil's watch beeped and the holographic form of Alan leapt out of it. The kid was lying sideways so that Virgil had to tilt his head to talk to him. "Virg! I'm stuck!"

"What? Al, did you try to get up by yourself?"

"Maybe. It was fine and then all of a sudden the floor hit me in the face!"

"Alright sprout, I'll be up in a sec."

"…Don't tell Scott about this."

Virgil laughed, raising his eyebrows at his brother over the hologram, "Don't worry, this can just be between us." He swiped Alan away, shaking his head at the mess that was his little brother. "Well," Virgil pushed on his knees to stand up, sighing heavily. "You said go back to normal, there's nothing more normal than scooping Al off the floor."

Scott half-smiled, sending a nod in his brothers direction. "We'll talk more about it later, but for now we'll just let Gordon make the first move. Thunderbirds are still _go,_ so," Scott shrugged, suddenly feeling very tired. "Be ready or…whatever."

" _Be ready or whatever._ Nice. That should be our new slogan," Virgil teased before making his way out of the office. Something in him had shifted back to place in talking to Scott, but it didn't mean he felt anywhere near whole again.

John turned to Scott with a gentle smile, deducing everything he needed to know about how his brother with a single glance. He realised that, with the rush of the past days, he hadn't really had the chance to talk to him properly. He did have a chance to be with him, but that was usually with another brother in the mix. As much as John adored them all there had once been a time where he and Scott were the only members of the Tracy brood, and there wasn't a person who understood him more. "You're not going to have a mental breakdown on me, are you?"

Scott looked offended, eyeing John with a thought in his eye. "No, I only do that in private, remember?"

"Oh that's right."

"How did Grandma handle the news?"

"Like a true Tracy champ. She's made of harder stuff than all of us."

"True. Do you think she could learn to drive a submarine?"

John laughed, mostly because if she was asked their Grandmother would probably _try_ to learn. During times when 'Five was out of action, Ruth Tracy was always the person who took calls from the land. John thought she had been more effective than he was half the time. "I guess it would be too much to just hope we could avoid water rescues?"

"Oh yeah, that would never work. You know how it happens, when 'Four's out of action we get the most water rescues we've ever seen."

"Hmm…Alan could try? He's had a go at the simulator a couple of times. Not too shabby for an astronaut."

"No, he's still learning. Virgil can't do it because somebody needs to be flying _'Two_ when 'Fours out. I suppose I'll have to."

John rolled his eyes. "Field commander, first responder, pilot, aquanaut extraordinaire Scott Tracy. You'll spontaneously combust within a week."

Scott's fist slammed back onto the desk. " _Damn_ Gordon! There's no one _else_ John! I'll do it ok? I hate that thing but I'll do it."

"What am I? An alien?" The words were out of John's mouth before he could stop them.

Scott blinked, slowly withdrawing his fist from the table. He tilted his head, studied John for a moment, and then opened his mouth. He didn't say anything, gears in his brains whirring as he pondered the idea. John cursed himself internally. "Would you stay?"

John winced. For a genius he sure was stupid sometimes.

Scott leant forward, a look of desperation in his eyes. "If I asked you too, would you?"

Now he had _really_ put his foot in it. "I…we need 'Five Scott."

"I know we do. It's not only communications up there, it's maps, it's figures, it's _everything_ but…" Scott ran a hand through his hair.

John smiled, sympathizing with his brother's struggle. "Why couldn't mum and dad have another child? It would have made this so much easier."

Scott snorted. "No _thank you._ But listen John, we could redirect calls down here; we've done that before when 'Five was out of action. It's more of a hassle I know, and it's not as direct…but it's something."

"Ok fine, but we won't have land details, or gas readings, or people locaters. We'd have to go old school, as in fly to the danger zone and figure it out. Scott this isn't possible. Besides, yes I passed the Sub Sims but I've only ever driven 'Four once! Never in a rescue situation, never without Gordon reading me through it. I'm as basic as Alan, even more so. I'm sorry, but I can't stay."

Scott's face fell. He tried to hide it with a quick smile, but John saw behind the mask. He read the silent _but I need you_ in his eyes, noticed the anguished scrape of his fingernails against the wood. It pained John to that his brother would never say that. That he would try to fight this alone. "Yeah you're right…" Scott waved him away. "How about us landies just swap around? I'll do it when we don't need 'One, Virg can do it if Alan holds 'Two up. We'll think of something."

John nodded somberly. "Listen, I'll try to come home more often."

"You don't have to-"

"No Scott, I will. I should be anyway, sometimes I just lose track of time up there. Ever since Brains installed the _spacevater_ it's easier anyway."

"I still don't trust that thing."

"Yeah I know, I just close my eyes."

There was a pause.

"I'm only a call away Scott."

"I know you are."

"Whenever you need me, I'll be down? Ok?"

Scott didn't answer.

" _Ok?_ "

Scott sighed and closed his eyes. "Yeah, ok John, ok."

John nodded, but knew he couldn't leave it like this. "Hey, do you know where Dad's secret whisky stash is?"

Scott smiled and gladly pointed his brother in the right direction. The two eldest Tracy's, separated by only a year, talked like they used to when they were kids. Except instead of sneaking into one another's rooms, they were sneaking alcohol, and there was actually no one to be sneaking it _from._ John still felt rather rebellious, reminded of his teenage years where he and Scott used to climb onto the roof whenever they were mad. John knew that as he got older, and more reserved, Virgil had taken his place as Scott's go-to brother. It didn't mean the bond wasn't there, nor did it mean John no longer cared. John cared a great deal about his brothers, and it was harder than they thought to leave and go back to 'Five. Especially now.

ooooo

After easing Alan back into the bed in the med bay, Virgil did what he did best and started fussing around to make sure he was alright. He reapplied bandages to Alan's shoulder, and made sure the sprain in his ankle was tightly bound. When Brains had come back the day before they had gone over scans and found nothing internal to worry about. That was one relief at least, to know that Virgil wouldn't be the cause of his youngest brother's demise.

Alan breathed in sharply as Virgil applied pressure to his ankle. "Virgil don't- _ow!_ Gee man, I know you're angry at me, but don't take it out on the invalid!"

Virgil pulled the binding tighter, ignoring Alan's protests. "There. That teaches you not to try and get up on your own. _Call me._ "

Alan made a face.

"Fine. _Call Scott._ " The face didn't change. Virgil sighed. "When John goes back up to five we're going to be the only ones you can call. Unless you want to deal with Grandma."

"Or Brains," Alan said, shuffling his shoulders so that he could get comfortable. "Virgil, now that Gords has run off, does that mean I'll get to do more rescues?"

Virgil stared his brother down. "Really Al? _That's_ what you're concerned about?"

"What? It's a perfectly valid question!"

"Sure, it's just sometimes you come across a little self-centered, you know that right?" Virgil made to walk out of the room. He had been all ready to come in here and forgive Alan, but it was comments like this that set it all off again.

"Oh come _on Virgil,_ " Alan whined. It was a tone that reminded Virgil he was still a kid. A kid who had just lost not only his mother and father, but now his closest brother. "I didn't mean it like _that._ But what else am I supposed to ask? Do you think he'll come back? Do you think he'll find Dad? I don't want to talk about those things."

Virgil took the bait and turned back around, perching himself on the edge of the bed. "Why not?"

Alan looked at him as though he was stupid. "Because they're sad things. But rescuing? Rescuing is _helping_ people, and it makes me happy. So I just wanna know if I'll be doing more of it."

Virgil sighed. Frown softening he placed a hand on Alan's uninjured leg. "Yeah, once you're better you will be doing more. You might even get to drive 'Four."

Those blue eyes lit up instantly. "Really? Gordo would _hate_ that."

"Well it's either that or you drive 'Two…which is _never_ going to happen."

"One day…" Alan whispered, staring dreamily into the distance. He snapped out of it and reached forward to his Virgil on the arm. "Actually, you owe me one for almost squashing me yesterday."

Virgil flinched, guilt from the moment rushing back. "I owe you more than one."

"Exactly, so you have to let me drive 'Two."

Virgil growled playfully and shook his head. "I'll let you touch the dashboard but that's it."

"I've done that already!"

"Then you should feel honored."

"Pah, you're no fun."

"No," Virgil smiled sadly. " _Fun_ has officially left the building. Or Island."

Alan started to giggle. Of course, he would never admit that it _was_ a giggle. He insisted it was a very grown up and manly laugh, but to Virgil it was definitely a giggle. This was actually pretty cute, not that he would ever mention that. "Imagine if Gordo did find Dad, his reaction would be priceless."

" _Why did it have to be you?_ " Virgil mocked the line spouted many times by Jeff in reference to his second youngest.

Alan laughed louder, very amused by the idea. His smile faded slowly and he lowered his head. "They'll both be alright, won't they Virg?"

Virgil reached over to ruffle Alan's hair. The blonde pouted. "Of course they will, they're Tracy's! But hey, I thought you said you didn't want to talk about that."

Alan nodded stubbornly and folded his arms across his chest. "Oh yeah. Stupid brain." Virgil chuckled at the idea of Alan getting angry at his own thoughts. The kid had a more volatile temper than Scott that was sometimes downright scary. At his laughter, Alan looked up and studied Virgil. "You've made up with Scott, haven't you?"

Virgil pulled back, wondering how Alan picked up on that. "By ' _made up_ ' you mean drank coffee, made jokes, and put aside our own problems then sure."

"No I meant bared your souls to one another, cried on shoulders, and finished with a nice manly hug. You know, the stuff you guys do all the time."

"Oh _that_ , sure, we can pretend that happened."

"Good. Does this mean you won't snap at me anymore?"

"If you won't whine?"

Alan appeared to chew the thought over, before reluctantly nodding. " _Fine_. It's better to have the grizzly bear on my side than not to."

"Did you just call me a grizzly bear?"

"It's better than Viggle."

Virgil laughed and squeezed Alan's knee, surprised at how well the kid was taking his brothers disappearance. He certainly was taking it better than Scott and Virgil were, which perhaps said something for how the two of them misjudged his maturity levels. Or maybe he was just more like John than they thought. He was an astronaut after all. Sometimes Virgil had to remind himself that his little brother was more skilled in that area than he was. Sure Virgil could paint, play music, be a paramedic _and_ a pilot. But he wasn't an astronaut.

Nor was he an _aquanaut._ He sighed. They had two pilots, two astronauts, but only one Gordon. Whatever possessed him to think that they would do fine without him was entirely wrong. But Virgil had to listen to John, and they would see how it all played out. As much as he wanted to go gallivanting after his co-pilot, International Rescue just couldn't afford another blow to its systems.


	6. Chapter 6

_ooooo_

Gordon was, once _again_ , tired. He was sick of sitting on trains, and buses, and normal _slow_ planes. _Why couldn't they all go fast like 'One?_ Even 'Two felt quicker than these things. The fire flash models were nothing on what Brains was making. Everything just seemed to move really _slowly._

Actually, this whole process was _slow._ A whole lot slower than he imagined. Gordon liked to live a fast-paced life, he was constantly moving, but on the mainland things were a little different. It had been two weeks since he first left the Island, and since then, he had come to the startling realization that he hadn't really thought things through. The aquanaut never really thought things through, but this certainly took the cake.

He hadn't even known where to _start._ And this time John wasn't on speed dial either. Gordon just had the Global Defense force, and nothing they told him was particularly helpful (as _usual)._ Most of the workers there still thought that the Hood was just a phantom. But they _had_ directed him to the sight of their father's crash. He had taken a boat out there with a couple of reluctant operatives that thought it was a waste of time. Considering they'd already had a couple of teams out there combing the ocean, it probably _was_ a waste of time. But Gordon had to be sure.

The remnants of Jeff's plane had been found in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. The Tracy patriarch had been on his way to a meeting in New York with the board of Tracy Industries. One moment Jeff's plane had been on John's radar, the next it simply disappeared. Coms had cut out, nobody saw anything, the plane had just dived into the ocean. By rights it should have looked like a freak accident. The plane had been pulled out bit by bit. Everything was there, all parts accounted for, but for one crucial piece. The YT88 Transponder beacon was missing. _That_ instantly indicated sabotage.

With Jeff's investigation into the Hood at the time, all the Tracy boys had jumped to the same conclusion. Even level headed John had to admit the theory was a valid one. Unfortunately the Global Defense force didn't like that idea. The major flaw being that the Hood had no connection between Jeff and International Rescue, so why target him? Gordon could think of a few ideas, but the GD were having none of it.

As soon as the media got hold of the story, news reports had been blasted everywhere about the death of billionaire Jeff Tracy. But without a body, and without the beacon, Gordon and his brothers never let off. The constant hounding from Scott for them to do something forced the GD to put an investigative team in place, and they had been active for the past month.

Well, supposedly active. When Gordon talked to them he found they had made little progress. But somehow, he didn't blame them. When arriving at the scene of the crash, surrounded by nothing but the vast expanse of blue waves and sky, he found himself doubting too.

Gordon spent that afternoon diving the crash site. Nothing was there to indicate that it _was_ the crash site. It just looked like the ocean. The beautiful, life-filled ocean, but somehow he didn't quite feel at home as he usually did. There were no parts left, no remnants of the plane, so eventually Gordon was forced to simply call it a day. _Why did he think he would find something different?_

Over the next few days he spent a lot of time at the Global Defense force headquarters. They talked him through various options, including a few ludicrous theories like Jeff simply taking the transponder beacon _out_ on his own, or faking his own death so that he could get away from it all. Gordon dismissed those instantly. One day they had even shown him the parts of the plane. But the mangled metal and twisted debris only made him feel ill. _How could someone survive that? Was it even possible?_

That night he couldn't sleep.

Actually, a lot of nights he couldn't sleep.

He'd crawl into the lone hotel bed, flick on the TV and see news of International Rescue splashed all over it. Every isolated hour he'd send himself further down his spiral of despair. Why did he ever think that _he_ could do anything? Gordon was no use, especially not when he was alone.

Each day got harder as Gordon tried to think of something new, and each day he struggled against the idea of calling his brothers.

He wanted to call them. Every day he fought with himself over whether to do it or not, but picturing their angry tones, the hurt in their eyes, and he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Using his credit card was necessary, so he wasn't being completely selfish. No doubt they were tracking his movements that way. The first time he had used it Gordon half expected them to fly out of the sky and pick him up. But nothing like that happened. It was so _strange_ to be on his own again. Nothing felt right, and he certainly didn't feel whole. But he had to do this. He had to prove he wasn't just a burden. He had to get the heart and soul of international rescue back, for his brother's sakes, and his own.

After a frustrating two weeks at the Global Defense force headquarters, Gordon was sick of being told nothing. He was sick of going over the same details _again_ and _again._ So finally he decided to leave and head to the only place he could think of: the Tracy Industries office. There was no reason for him to go there, but the aquanaut liked to entertain the thought that just maybe it would bring him closer to his father. _Give me some clues Dad, I need all the help I can get._

So Gordon had been sat on a train (which broke down), then a bus (which smelt like old people), and then a cab (which kept driving through red lights).

But now he was stood before the building which held many memories. Not particularly fun or exciting memories, mostly boring ones. Jeff had tried to get all of his sons engaged in the business, taking them each at different times to the office. Scott had caught on well of course; he didn't really have a choice in the matter. John was good with the numbers; Virgil charmed all the business men, and Alan showed so much interest that Jeff had taken him back time and time again. Gordon just ended up breaking things, like those vases in the lobby, or accidentally insulting clients, or just riding in the elevators.

But here he was, on his own, in front of the building that jutted out of the landscape like a broken mirror shard. At first he felt a little nervous. How would they react to his sudden appearance? If they expected any of the Tracy brothers it would be Scott. He bit his lip, conscience telling him to just turn around. Then he remembered he was Gordon freaking Tracy and waltzed into the building like he owned it. In fact, he kind of did own it, which made it even better.

Expecting a large and excited welcome, Gordon got absolutely nothing. People in suits zipped around the lobby, paying no attention whatsoever to the kid in the Hawaiian shirt. To make it worse, the usual receptionist who knew Jeff and the boys well, was not there. Instead there was a middle aged lady who looked like a librarian. She had curled brown hair and a pinched bird like face, with round spectacles to complete the look.

Gordon smiled at her politely. She tried not to screw up her nose at _his_ appearance. Gordon had never really been one for fashion; he left that for John and Alan. "How can I help you?"

"Ah I need to…um…" _What did he want? What did he expect to find here?_ "…Would _like_ to talk to Tom Mallory please." Thomas Mallory used to be the fill-in CEO of Tracy Industries when their father was too busy with International Rescue. Now that he was gone, Tom had stepped up to the plate full time. The business had essentially fallen to Scott, but he was more of a figurehead than anything. Most of the strings were really in Mallory's hand. Gordon had known Tom ever since his teenage years, and he knew he was a good friend to their father.

The lady raised her thin eyebrows, lips pursed. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Urgh no, no actually I'm…" Gordon dug awkwardly in his pocket for his I.D, before flicking it onto the desk in front of her. He really should have mentioned this first. "I'm one of Jeff's sons, I just need to-"

She didn't let him finish his sentence, eyes widening as she realised the I.D was valid. "Oh dear me! I'm terribly sorry Mr. Tracy, I didn't recognize you-"

"Gordon's fine, I feel too young to be a Mr."

"Of course, of course…now which one are you? You're the swimmer aren't you?"

Gordon smiled and nodded. Yes, that was him. The swimmer. After a few more moments of apologies, she paged Tom's office and told Gordon to head straight up. He thanked her and got into one of his much loved elevators. Now _these_ things held the happy memories. Shooting up to the eighth floor Gordon climbed out, and was instantly greeted by Tom.

Thomas Mallory was around the same age as Jeff, though their father certainly looked better preserved. He was a short balding man with a mushroom like nose, and small dark eyes that were practically covered by wispy eyebrows. Gordon's eyes were instantly drawn to the bushy moustache that now sat upon his face like the end of a broom. It looked like the hair from the bald circle at the top of his head had climbed down to sit upon his lip. "Gordon!" He greeted him with open arms. "You are the last person I expected to see here today, welcome!"

Gordon smiled, matching the man's grin, though he certainly didn't feel like smiling. He asked the right questions here and there. Mallory asked about his brothers, and his 'job' doing sea life research out of a reef in Australia. The boys all had cover jobs, in case anyone ever asked, though Gordon thought his was the best. After a long while of mindless chatter, Gordon finally made an excuse as to why he was there, claiming that Scott had wanted a few files from their father's office. Mallory had been glad to let him in, and then left him to his own devices.

Their father's office was on the same floor as Mallory's, and technically should have gone to him, but the CEO had insisted that they kept it empty. Scott used it whenever he flew to New York but other than that it was kept entirely the same.

Gordon felt his heart twist. The bookcase along the wall was still meticulously ordered, the desk had the familiar coffee stains, and not even a file seemed out of place. Gordon had inherited absolutely none of his father's love for order and tidiness, but it didn't mean he couldn't appreciate it.

He waltzed over to the desk and sunk into the chair. There were pictures of the boys dotted about the desk; a younger Scott in his new Air Force uniform, John about to embark on his first space trip, Virgil next to one of his paintings, Alan on his award night at school. They were all there, with wonderful achievements.

Gordon's photo was a little different. He was around seventeen, had just pushed Virgil in the pool, and was laughing wildly, sandy hair sticking in all directions. It was a random, candid shot, and was rather unflattering. Gordon had asked his father about it once, about why he had chosen that one. He could have chosen any of Gordon's swimming competitions to match his array of accomplished sons. But no, he chose that one. "It encapsulates your spirit," Jeff had replied. Gordon pretended he understood.

Turning his head away from the photos Gordon came face to face with his father's work computer. He stared at it for a while, looking at his reflection in the screen. All the bruises on his face had faded now, and the pain in his arm was a distant memory. Gordon bit his lip. He wondered if Alan was better by now. _Perhaps he should call just to check…_ No, _stop._

But what if the others had been injured? What if the entire Island had exploded in his absence? What if Grandma had accidentally set everything on fire? Or the space elevator snapped? Or Virgil stabbed Alan with a paint brush?

Gordon shook his head, trying to force the thoughts away. _They would be fine._ Remember? They were _fine_ without him. If there really was an emergency, one of them would have come after him by now. Perhaps they were really doing fine…

With that double edged thought, Gordon booted up his father's computer.

ooooo

" _Crap!" Crap, crap, crap._ Scott pulled his head away from the dashboard it had just flung into. _Ouch._ He brought a hand to his forehead, wincing as it met with blood. Scott watched, almost in slow motion, as droplets of red spilled onto his uniform, eyes swimming as he tried to focus. _Come on…_ God, his head felt worse than the night after Virgil's 21st. Eyelids fluttering, Scott almost slumped back forward. Then something in 'Four beeped.

Scott growled and wiped the blood away. He didn't have _time_ for injuries. Shifting in the chair, he placed his hands back on the controls, back twinging from the cramped space. The submarines lights beamed outwards, lighting up the infinite water in his path. Some form of sea life swam past but Scott didn't really care what it was. He had to block this _damned_ pipe once and for all.

"Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird Four, everything alright down there?" Virgil's deep voice sounded fuzzy to Scott's ears. It was hard to tell whether that was his head or water interference with the coms.

"Yes Thunderbird Two, the pipe burst in another place and pushed the sub backwards. I'm going to have to patch that one up as well," Scott propelled forward, making sure to avoid the jets of steam this time. He sighed heavily, fiddling with the controls. He had been down here for almost two hours trying to fix this thing, but nothing was going his way. Well, nothing _ever_ went his way when he was in 'Four. It appeared Scott the invincible Tracy had met his match.

"Alright, well, 'Two's grapples are still clinging to the weaker end of the pipe. Alan's just about got all of the workers out so If you can't do it-"

"I _can_ do it." Scott snapped.

Virgil kept his tone level. "I know, but _hypothetically_ if you can't, perhaps it would be best just to let it blow out. It won't hurt anyone."

Scott clutched the controls tighter. "No, the council will just lose a couple hundred grand. No problem there."

"That's not our job, Scott."

Scott rolled his eyes. For once _he_ was on the receiving end of that line. Ok, maybe he knew how they felt now…Extending 'Four's claws, Scott moved them so that both the arms would clutch onto a section of pipe. He directed them forward, and missed. _Damn it._ They whirred, and then clutched nothing but water. _Great, just great._ Third time lucky? Nope. Hell, this was a _lot_ harder than controlling 'One…Finally the metal clamped down upon the pipe, steadying it so that he could patch one of the leaks up.

"Survivors all out and accounted for!" Alan's pleased voice was so loud that Scott's hand slipped, almost losing 'Fours grip on the pipe.

He cursed loudly, quickly grabbing back at the controls. "Jeez Alan, simmer down on the noise level will you?"

Alan sounded defensive. "Sensitive to sound _are_ we gramps?"

Scott growled at the sound of Virgil's laughter. "Oh shut up you two."

Patching up one of the leaks, Scott breathed a sigh of relief. He removed the claws and drove the Sub further down the line. The whole track of pipe, which was bolted to the sea floor, was practically shaking with the force of too much steam pressure. A regulator had broken and couldn't be fixed; workers at the end of the line were in danger if It blew, there was no way to switch it off, all the usual stuff. Only water rescues weren't usual for Scott. He hated not being able to see everything. It was just dark, and blurred, with an eerie silence that would drive anyone crazy. Apparently not Gordon, but he wasn't just anyone.

"You know, Gordo would have been finished by now." Alan said impatiently, obviously bored now he had nothing to do. "You're losing your touch Scott."

"You can't lose something you didn't have to begin with," Virgil sighed, no doubt equally as bored as Alan, as all he had to do was hold the weakest part of the pipe line.

Scott scowled at nothing as he missed his target again. He would have argued with his brothers if they weren't so _right. Why did this have to be so difficult?_ "I'd like to see you try…"

"We did," Virgil said flatly.

"Exactly. That didn't turn out so well either."

Alan hummed in mock thought, "No, a collapsed sea cave and a dented front on 'Four is still worse than Scotty's effort Virgil."

"Hey!" Virgil protested. "I can barely fit in that thing! My shoulders were rubbing against the panels the whole time."

Scott sympathized with Virgil, his knees practically locked into place from being in such a cramped position. He'd forgotten how short Gordon was. Even Alan was quickly catching up to his brother's height, which was a scary thought.

"Yeah, yeah, blame it on the equipment."

"You can't say anything, Mr. _create a mini whirlpool…_ "

"Hey! In my defense, it was my first rescue back."

"Sure kid, sure."

'Fours claws clamped back down on the pipe. Scott almost let out a cheer, before realizing that would admit his doubt in the first place. He could do this, of course he could, it was easy… _no._ With another forceful burst of water, the patch he had just placed on burst away from the metal. The Sub was caught up in the current, getting propelled against its thrusters. _No, no, no…_ Letting out a string of curse words, Scott felt nauseous as his head flew to the side and met the glass with a _thud_.

"I am an innocent child who is shocked by your vocabulary," Alan said in mock horror. "Really Scott, who raised you?"

Scott winced, "Sorry Al, the…" he felt his hand slip, vision blurring. "Thingymajig fell off and I…" he groaned.

"Scott?" Virgil tried not to sound concerned. He wasn't very good at it. "Are you drunk down there? Is that what you've been doing this whole time?"

"Hmm…" Scott blinked, trying to get his vision to refocus. _Patch. Jets. Fix. Four._ "I think…" his hand shook. "Just a couple more and I…I'll be done."

"Scott, are you alright down there?"

 _"_ _No Virgil, he's not alright,"_ John's sharp voice almost brought Scott back to focus. He blinked, trying desperately hard to keep his eyes open. Damn, he had forgotten John could see their holographic images. He tried to straighten up in the seat, clasping the controls with purpose. _Come on_ , he couldn't _fail_ in 'Four.

"I'm fine John, I'm almost finished-"

" _Scott Tracy drive to the surface right now you stubborn fool. You are not almost done, and that thing will blow before you can finish it. So stop trying."_

"But I-"

"Scott, do as John says." Virgil's tone was firm. "Honestly man, I should keep a tally of how many times you all try to hide your injuries. Stubbornness really does run in the family."

Scott grimaced, contemplated continuing before realizing that would _really_ prove his hypocrisy. So Instead he did as he was told. Scott wasn't used to being on the receiving end of orders, and now he _really_ understood what it felt like. _Was he like this all the time? This bossy?_ No wonder the others got so annoyed with him. As the sub surfaced Scott instantly felt relieved. There was something about being stuck in a metal container at the bottom of the ocean that didn't sit with him well. Not that he would _ever_ admit that.

With a forlorn look downwards, Scott pushed forward and drove Four up the ramp and into the pod. With a violent jolt making Scott's head throb, the sub finally clicked into place and the door began to close. He could hear the blurry voices of his brothers over the coms and tried to focus. _Why did it sound like he was still underwater?_

Virgil began to speak as Scott felt the pod getting drawn back into Two. He should probably get out of the submarine, but he wasn't sure he could actually _move_ after being stuck in the same position for so long. "I'm gonna land 'Two so we can pick up Al and 'One. Then I guess we're finished here."

" _They won't like that."_

"Yeah well, there was nothing we could do. We saved lives, that's what matters."

Scott would have agreed with his middle brother, but there _was_ something they could have done, if only he had done it a little faster. As much faith as Scott had in his other brothers, he didn't think they could have done a better job either. Stomach twisting, Scott closed his eyes and tried to push the worry away.

When he opened them again, Virgil was standing over him with a torch in his hand, trying to mask an expression of concern. Alan stood by the doorway, arms folded across his chest as he watched his older brothers. A sharp pain flittered before Scott's eyes, black spots dancing across his vision. Scott blinked, trying to clear them away. _What the hell…?_ He was lying down. But _no_ , he had just been in 'Four. Why were the lights so bright in here? Where was _here?_ " _Finally_ ," Virgil snapped. His eyes widened upon realizing how frantic he sounded. The artist tried to draw his tone back to his its usual mellow level. "God Scott, you're worse than Alan!"

"Hey…" Alan narrowed his eyes.

Scott blinked blearily, images of his brothers swimming before him. He bought his own hand up in front of his eyes to try and focus them. "How…did you…get there?"

Virgil raised an eyebrow.

"You were…in Two _…_ " Scott sighed, shifting uncomfortably. He turned his neck sharply as he realised that he wasn't in 'Two's med bay either. He was in the Tracy Island infirmary. But… _what?_ _What had they been doing?_ Water. Pipes. Workers. _Yes_. Ok. _But how…?_

"I'm magic…" Virgil said dryly. He frowned as he leant forward to examine Scott's head. Scott quickly batted his brother's hand away as he remembered what they had been doing. He lifted a leg and swung it around, trying to lift himself off of the bed. Legs screaming at suddenly being stretched, Scott stumbled, quickly steadied by Virgil. "Woah there, slow down. You need to-"

Scott waved his comment away. "What happened with the pipes? Was the steam flow stopped?"

Virgil shook his head, hand tightly around Scott's arm. "No but-"

"But you missed an amazing explosion Scott!" Alan butted in, sauntering towards them. "Honestly you could see it from the surface. The ripple effect was in _sane_ …" on seeing Scott's face Alan trailed off. "But don't worry, everybody was out of range, we got them out on time. Remember?"

Scott growled at his younger brother. "It's just a bump; I'm not experiencing amnesia Alan. Oh this is _great_ just great. The media don't care about who we save, they're just going to splash it everywhere that we weren't able to save the million dollar pipeline."

"How _you_ weren't able to save the pipeline," Alan corrected unhelpfully, all too scathing for Scott's liking. The youngest Tracy reached up to place a hand on Scott's shoulder. He looked him in the eyes seriously and said, "But remember Scott, we don't do this for the gratitude."

Scott glared at his younger brother. He didn't like that tone, and it was a tone he had been subjected to a lot over the past weeks. Alan had apparently recessed back into his grumpy teenage years. Even though he was basically still a teenager, he'd grown out of it with his introduction into International Rescue. But now, it was all coming back. Scott made to tell Alan what he thought about that, but instantly stopped as his head throbbed.

Virgil, sensing tension, gently pushed Scott back onto the bed, "how does it feel to be on the receiving end of _that_ old line huh?"

"Superb," Scott snapped, trying to shake away Virgil's grasp. "I'm fine Virgil-"

"Fine..?" Virgil closed his eyes, took a step away from Scott, and started doing what looked like meditative breathing. He clenched his fists tightly. "Fine…" he repeated, counting slowly in his head.

"Now you've done it," Alan muttered with a roll of his eyes. He slumped down lazily in a chair and watched Virgil carefully.

"Please tell me…" Virgil said softly, jaw clenched. His eyes locked onto Scott with his brewing fury. "How falling unconscious in 'Four and then staying that way on the whole journey home, is in anyway, _fine?_ "

Scott tilted his head, making the dots appear before his vision again. Virgil's words processed slower than usual, but once they had, Scott instantly tried to stand back up again. " _Wait_ , who drove 'One back? Is she back?"

Virgil pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course that's what's important here…"

"I drove her," Alan drawled from the seat, watching his brother with an almost smug expression. "Full speed too. It was amazing; I really should do that more often-"

"No you _shouldn't,_ " Scott growled and turned to Virgil. "How could you let him drive her?"

Virgil gritted his teeth. "Who _else_ was going to do it? Unconscious _you?_ "

"I am just as capable at driving her as you!" Alan got to his feet to try and match his brother's height, instantly on the defensive. "My leg is _fine_ and I've flown her before-"

"Yes with _me!_ "

"Virg was there!"

"Virgil doesn't count-"

"Why don't I count?"

 _"_ _Oh my god, shut up the lot of you."_ John's blue form burst into the room, forcing even more dark spots to prance in front of Scott's vision. Scott stumbled slightly, overbalancing. " _Scott Tracy sit on the bed right now and let Virgil take a look at you. Alan, take a deep breath, you did really well today, ok?"_

Scott did as he was told, slowly lowering himself back onto the bed. Virgil nodded at John gratefully, pouncing on his older brother. Feeling a headache brewing Scott allowed the artist to give him the proper once over. John floated grumpily before them all, apparently with no intentions of leaving now. The astronaut had the wonderful ability to yell without yelling. It was a more sinister tone, one he reserved only for the times he was truly fed up.

The room was silent.

"Injured in 'Four huh?" Alan couldn't help but continue, clicking his tongue against his teeth in disappointment. "I must say that is a new low for you."

"It's not my fault I can't control it," Scott said, trying to remain calm. The house shook when Scott and Alan ever got into an argument, and frankly he really wasn't in the mood.

Alan's jaw slipped open mockingly. "Wow…Did you just _admit_ that _you_ can't control Four? Really Scott?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that…I meant…" Scott drew his fingers across the blanket, trying to ignore Virgil as he was now wrapping something tightly around his head.

"Just drop it, Al." Virgil muttered. "I doubt you would have been able to do it either."

"I might _have_ , if I'd been given the chance," bitterness dripped from their younger brother's tone. He folded his arms across his chest tightly.

"Just _don't_ Alan," Scott glared at him. "We're not talking about this again."

"Why _not?_ " Alan spat, getting to his feet. "I mean, all I want is just a civil _talk._ But that never happens does it? Damn it!" Alan's foot collided with the wall. "Why does 'talking' always equal arguing these days?"

Scott flinched at the sound. Mood swings were certainly Alan's forte. Virgil continued to maneuver around Scott like he hadn't even heard the outburst. Seeing that neither of his brothers were going to answer, John turned to his youngest brother with a sigh. He knew perfectly well what the problem was, but mentioning it wasn't exactly going to solve anything. "… _you're all tired, especially taking on extra-_ "

"No, no," Alan shook his head like he didn't want to hear it. "That's not _it._ Why do we always skirt around the topic? We know what the problem is, we need him _back._ "

"We can't just get Dad _back_ Al-" Virgil began.

"I'm not talking about _Dad_ , I'm talking about Gordon! Why don't you guys just go and bring him back? That's your job isn't it? To keep us together?"

"That's not easy _either_ Alan!" Scott yelled, making his brother take a step back. "If he doesn't _want_ to come back, then we can't force him too! If he bothered to give us a call then I would have gladly left a thousand messages telling him that we need our aquanaut back, but that hasn't _happened._ Ok? So we're just going to have to push past this and deal with it like _adults._ "

Emphasizing the last word made Alan jump slightly, staring wide-eyed at his Scott. "I don't care about getting our _aquanaut_ back," he said quietly. "I just want my brother."

Scott groaned, "Alan wait-" but Alan was out of the room before he could say anymore. Scott's head felt like hell. He felt like hell. Now Alan felt like _hell._ Virgil probably did too. What a wonderful way to end the day. "Why is it always me? Why am I always the bad guy?"

John shrugged, sent his brother a sympathetic look, before switching off.

Virgil sighed, trying to pretend like nothing had just happened. "I don't know bro, I don't know about a whole lot at the moment. What I _do_ know, is that you've got a mild concussion by the looks of it, and that dashboard must be mighty hard. Also, driving 'Four makes me appreciate our resident squid a whole lot more."

"You can say that again," Scott muttered. Perhaps that was Gordon's plan. Leave them hanging for so long that eventually they would realise how much they needed him. Well, it had worked. But brother number four was still missing in action, and as much as Scott wanted to believe in John's plan, two weeks without contact was sending Scott's anxiety levels skyrocketing. He groaned as a wave of nausea shivered through him.

Virgil gave him some pills, told him to rest, and then set about cleaning up his mess. Scott didn't want to rest, but his head was pounding and Alan was sulking. Eventually his eyelids felt heavy enough to allow closing them. Half expecting time to skip forward again, Scott jolted as something vibrated.

" _Yes?"_ Scott answered into his watch. When nobody answered back, and the vibrations continued, Scott realised it was his phone. Virgil chuckled at this, watching him slyly.

Scott tried to focus his mind. It was the phone he used for work, or for contacting old friends, and he felt like doing neither in that moment. On seeing the caller ID reading _Thomas Mallory_ , he sighed and picked it up. Mallory _never_ rang him unless it was truly important. He tried to sound relaxed and failed, just sounding monotone. "Scott Tracy speaking."

"Oh hi Scott this is Mallory, hope this isn't a bad time."

"Ah…no…no you're fine. Has something happened?"

"No, no, nothing bad, nothing bad," the man repeated. Scott envisaged him bobbing his head like he did during meetings. "I was just calling to say, you didn't have to send your brother to pick up the files. I could easily have sent them to you."

"My brother?" Scott couldn't keep the tone of surprise out of his voice. "Which one?"

In retrospect, it was a stupid question. Considering that two of them were with him and one was in space, it was pretty obvious who it was. But his head was killing him, and his common sense wasn't exactly at full blast.

"Well…Gordon," Mallory said awkwardly, clearing his throat. "He said he'd come to pick up some files for you."

"Oh," Scott was silent for a moment. Gordon. He was there. He was at Tracy industries, and he was right _there._ All Scott had to do was ask Mallory to hand over the phone, and he could talk to him. _What would he say?_ What could he say? Gordon could easily hang up with a simple slip-up from Scott. It was no questioning that Scott's controlling nature was what spiraled this off in the first place. Perhaps he would just let Gordon talk. _But what if he didn't want to?_ Wait…what was he doing there? What could Gordon possibly find at Tracy industries? "Oh the files…" Scott finally said as Mallory cleared his throat again. "Yes that's right, well Gordon was heading out that way anyway…I thought he may as well pick something up for me while he was at it."

"Ah, of course."

"And he needs to show up at least once to the building right? He has to look like he does something for the company."

Mallory laughed, a hearty chuckle that had Virgil turning his head. "Quite right, quite right. I was so shocked to see him when he arrived. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I do have time to do these things for you."

"No worries Tom I know you do." Scott was so shaken by the mention of Gordon; he struggled to bring his voice around to sounding normal. "Ah, hey listen, I'll plan another trip over there soon myself."

"Wonderful. We'll schedule a meeting around the visit then."

"Great. Ah…" Scott swallowed. It was just five words he had to say. _Can I speak to Gordon?_ But somehow, he couldn't bring himself to do it. It would seem odd to Mallory that he wouldn't just call Gordon on his own phone. "Well thanks for checking in Tom, tell Gords to do some work while he's there."

Mallory laughed, said a cheerful goodbye, and switched off the phone. Virgil's head had turned instantly towards him at the mention of Gordon's name. The artist turned away from his supplies and locked Scott with a stare. "He's alright?" the panic in Virgil's tone gave away the fact he was feeling less calm than he acted.

Scott breathed out slowly, bringing one hand absentmindedly to his head. "Yeah well…I think…ah he's…"

"He's at Tracy industries?" Virgil offered.

Scott nodded, hand shaking as he placed the phone back in his pocket. "Yeah he's there…supposedly picking up files for me."

"Cheeky…" Virgil smiled broadly, eyes darting around in thought. He placed a hand on Scott's knee. "But what on earth is he doing there? He hates that place! You don't think…"

"That he's found something out about Dad?" Scott shrugged, quite taken aback. What was his little brother up to? "I honestly have no clue."

Virgil laughed suddenly, a sound that he hadn't heard in a while. His shoulders sagged in relief as the true meaning of the call sunk in. All those thoughts they'd been having, about him being lost, or attacked, or mugged, or _anything_ , they had just been fantasy. Gordon was fine. He still might not want to talk to them, but he was _fine._

Scott called John and filled him in on the situation. John had been happy to see that his waiting plan had worked, and that Gordon was in fact big enough to maneuver himself around on his own. Scott smiled back at his closest brother, "I know it's wonderful isn't it? But listen John…now that we know _where_ he is…you don't think that you could…" Scott trailed off.

" _Monitor him?"_ John said flatly. " _Scott._ "

"I know, I know," Scott sighed. Was he not allowed to be worried? "I'm a control freak."

 _"_ _Your words,"_ John rolled his eyes. " _Don't worry; you can rest a little easier knowing he's fine. Besides if Gordo is at Tracy Industries, that means he must really be running out of trail. He'll be home before we know it."_

 _"_ And soon we'll regret ever wanting him back," Virgil joked.

Scott bit his lip, but let this one slide. Maybe it was just enough for him to know that he was ok.

ooooo

Gordon yawned loudly, wondering how in the hell he'd ended up looking at spreadsheets. Various numbers floated around the computer screen in mind boggling formation. What even was a spread sheet? What were these numbers? What was _Gordon?_ The bright computer light was the only thing visible in the office now that night had descended across the city. Gordon turned to look out the window, for the first time noticing how dark it was. He had _completely_ lost track of time.

That afternoon all he'd done was search through various folders on his father's computer. There had been nothing of interest, just share reports, and schedules, and boring business man documents. But Gordon had read every single one obsessively, as though they held vital information that he would be able to uncover. Nobody had been in to check on him. In fact, Gordon felt that they might have forgotten he was there at all. Cool. A night at the office. _Alone._

Dejectedly, Gordon switched off the computer, plunging himself into darkness. He sat in it for a while just contemplating his general existence, before getting up and struggling to find the light switch. When he did find it, it didn't improve either his mood, or the situation very much.

Sighing he sat back down and booted the computer back up. Somehow, he found his fingers typing search results for the latest on International Rescue. An article popped up stating _"International Rescue unable to stop underwater explosion._ " Gordon's heart stopped. Clicking into it, he soon found out that no one was killed or injured, and that everyone was just complaining about lost money. A smile flickered onto Gordon's lips. "Underwater explosion huh…" he muttered softly.

His eyes fell to the pictures of his brothers. Jeff was only featured in the picture with Scott, one arm wrapped proudly around his eldest son. Gordon ran his thumb over his father's face, wondering what could have been going through his mind when the crash happened. Perhaps he had been thinking about spread sheets when the plane started to go down. A simple business trip turned horror story. If only the saboteur, if there really was one, knew what effect he had.

Bored and fidgety, Gordon began to open all the drawers. He pulled them out and shuffled things around, trying to find something interesting. One drawer was just entirely full of stationary. Gordon took the container of paper clips and put it aside, remembering when he and Alan used to build things with them when they had to wait around. Another drawer was chock full of unsorted paper. Gordon grinned. Perhaps his father wasn't as organized as he seemed. Pulling the last one open, his eyes fell to a black leather book. Gordon brushed it open, finding that it was his father's work diary. There were little scrawls everywhere about meetings and deadlines, black circles marking the days Jeff would be away from home.

Lazily Gordon flicked through the pages before landing on the most important day of all. He frowned. The fourteenth of February was simply marked " _G's birthday._ " _What, he didn't even get an exclamation mark? Or a little sketch of balloons?_ Quickly checking to make sure the others were all the same, Gordon chuckled. It wasn't his usual heartfelt chuckle, just an empty laugh as he wondered what on _earth_ he was doing.

Then a thought struck him.

With dancing fingers Gordon flicked forward. He pulsed through the pages to find the date of the crash, but there was nothing written there. Confused, Gordon flicked back a few, heart racing. A week before the day of the crash there was an entry stating, " _Meeting with board about British branch opening,"_ which had been lightly crossed out with pen. Beneath it, another entry had been added, " _Mallory rescheduled to 21_ _st_ _-British board members wish to attend."_

Gordon's heart plummeted.

It was nothing. It had to be nothing. It was just a basic coincidence, that was all. There was nothing suspicious about rescheduling meetings, it happened all the time. But the question was, if it hadn't been rescheduled, would their father have made it to the mainland? Was it that particular day, the 21st, that had been dedicated to interference? _No. It was just coincidence. It had to be._

But Gordon was already grasping for his phone. He was clutching at straws and he knew it, he knew he was desperate for anything. No doubt the Global Defense force already went over this, that there was a valid reason for rescheduling the meeting. Either way Gordon found himself punching in numbers. First it was Scott's, but Gordon couldn't press call. The eldest Tracy would just think he was crazy, or perhaps ignore the call entirely. Gordon needed to know more before he sprung the ludicrous idea upon his brothers. So instead, he called the only other person he could think of.

 _"_ _Lady Penelope speaking- oh…Gordon!"_ the utter astonishment in her voice indicated that Scott had filled her in on the whole situation. Gordon thought on how long it had actually been since he'd seen Penelope, and how much he regretted not thinking of her sooner.

He did find himself smiling upon hearing her voice. Well, anyone's voice would have done fine, but hers was particularly nice to listen to. "Penny! Hello, yes it is I, Gordon, your favourite Tracy brother. Listen, I'm at Tracy industries and I need you to-"

Penelope cleared her throat to interrupt him. " _Yes thank you Gordon, I am very well. My day has been lovely. Oh yes, Parker is fine too-"_

Gordon grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."

He heard her sigh, " _Are you alright Gordon? What are you doing exactly? Really, you've got your family all worried-"_

"Listen Penny, I'll explain later, but this is really important."

 _"_ _Gordon you can't expect to call me and then just-"_

" _Please_ your ladyship? It's rather urgent."

Gordon could practically hear her tapping her fingers in frustration. It was a well-known fact that she found him the hardest to deal with, mainly because his brothers were more polite than he was. Secretly Gordon thought she liked it. There was an audible sigh, " _Let me guess, you need me to do some 'agenting'?_ "

"That's the one!"

" _Alright, as long as you promise to explain what's going on?_ "

"It's a date," Gordon found himself winking at nothing. Ah, what an idiot. "Is it possible for you to find out which of the new Tracy Industries British board members were flying to New York for the meeting? The one on the day of Dad's crash?"

There was a significant pause. He could practically feel the pity in her tone. That's it, Gordon's lost it, he's chasing invisible trails again. " _Do I get to ask why?"_

"Erm…" Gordon shuffled in his seat. "Afterwards, I'll tell you everything. I've got to make sure I don't look like an idiot first."

" _Oh well then, I have my work cut out for me."_

Gordon narrowed his eyes at the phone. _"_ I thought you were supposed to be a _lady?_ "

Penelope laughed a rather delightful laugh, tinkling into the quiet office. " _Alright then Gordon, I'll see what I can do."_

"Thank you Penny, you are the _best._ "

Penelope switched off. Gordon wondered if she would mention anything to his brothers. Part of him wished that she would, so that they would come rushing out here to help him. But that would mean putting International Rescue on hold, and that just wasn't a possibility.

He never realised how much he craved their company. Because they lived together they were just constantly there, and there was no point in missing them. When Gordon had gone off to study Oceanography it had felt liberating to leave, to get away from all the shoes he had to fill, from all the pressure placed on him to do well. But after IR drew them back together, Gordon found he wanted to be around them, because there was no longer any pressure for him to live up to. Gordon had been part of the team, for the first time he had been on an equal plain with his brothers. Well, he thought he had.

Leaning back in his chair, Gordon's nerves were on fire. Placing the phone onto the desk he settled in for an anxious wait. Perhaps he would just sleep here. It beat cheap hotel beds and navigating New York alone.

Sighing, Gordon closed his eyes, failing to notice the shadow of a presence outside the door.

ooooo

 _ **I'm not sure if this really counts as a cliff hanger, but if it does, sorry! I will be away the next couple of days but will try to get the next chapter out as quick as possible after Monday. Thank you for reading!**_


	7. Chapter 7

_ooooo_

Virgil looked at his collection of paintbrushes but felt absolutely no desire to pick one up. It wasn't often that the artist was without his creative muse, but at the moment the house had no life, or colour, and he had no will to paint. Besides, when a younger brother is not there to rearrange equipment, or swap the black tube to bright pink, then where's the fun in painting anyway?

The house was quiet apart from the occasional stomps of Alan making his way around the landing. It was the first day in a while that they had the morning off, but none of them wanted to do anything with it. Rescues were a good distraction, free time was not. Especially when the youngest brother bristled every time somebody spoke to him, and the eldest was practically dead on his feet. Ah, the joys of being stuck in the middle. Even Grandma had grown quiet, resorting to buying pre-made food instead of cooking. Now _that_ was a warning sign. Virgil sensed the considerable mood drop in the house, even if the others were denying it, and he knew that said a lot.

Feeling restless, Virgil left his paints and made his way towards the lounge. Alan was halfheartedly eating breakfast with their grandmother, who was trying to get the youngest to do some of his studies. Virgil smiled at her sympathetically. There was no way that was happening.

Scott was sat on one of the couches, running a hand through his dark hair. His face was drawn from lack of sleep and the bruise on his forehead splashed violent colour on his pale skin. Virgil's eyes narrowed instinctively, still a little frustrated at his brother for thinking he was fine. It hadn't exactly been nice for Virgil to lose contact with Scott and then have to find him unconscious in 'Four. It hadn't been nice to move him either. Scott was heavier than he looked. "You know, sleep is a thing man. You don't have to just wait around for the next rescue."

Scott startled, not having registered Virgil's entrance into the lounge. For the biggest of the brothers he sure could move like John. Scott quickly removed his hand from his hair. It was a nervous habit he had developed from Jeff that showed he was on edge without using words. "I'm not waiting, I'm just…thinking."

"Hmm that's a first."

"Funny."

Virgil eased himself down next to his brother. "A laugh would do you good you know."

"Laughter? What is that?" Scott mumbled, eyes still trained on the portraits in front of them. Virgil could tell he really was thinking hard about something, something that brought no light to his eyes.

"Your newly prescribed medicine." Virgil studied him closely. The two very rarely ever had secrets between them, and the artist knew that Scott wasn't holding anything back from him; he was just incredibly run down by everything that had happened. Virgil was too, but somehow the middle brother was better at dealing with it all. Both his creative outlets helped, not that they were any use to him today. "Smile Scotty, doctors' orders."

Scott forced a smile which looked more like a grimace. "Am I better now?"

"Yeah, the bruise is disappearing as we speak."

Scott offered him a genuine, if tired, smile. Patting Scott on the shoulder, Virgil made to get up when one of the portraits sprung to life. It wasn't John this time however, but Lady Penelope. Her immaculate form floated before them, thin eyebrows drawn together in concern.

"Penny!" Scott attempted to sit up straighter. From the dining table, Alan shuffled to sink further behind it, trying to hide the fact he was still in his pyjamas. "We ah, weren't expecting you to call. Is everything alright?"

" _I'm not sure Scott,"_ she returned quickly. " _Have you heard from Gordon_?"

Virgil's heart drummed against his chest. He instantly knew from her tone that something wasn't right. The artist had always been more attune to emotion than the others, especially hearing it in other people's words.

"Gordon?" Scott tried not to look anxious as he leant back casually against the couch. He failed. "Well no but-"

"Have _you?"_ Alan burst out, racing from behind the table and coming into full view of Penelope. She didn't even blink at his sudden appearance, nor notice his spaceship attire. "Where is he? Is he ok? Is he coming home?"

Virgil felt his heart break a little, sharing a guilty look with Scott. Neither had told their youngest brother they had news of Gordon's whereabouts, mostly because they were afraid that Alan would try to make his way there if he knew.

" _No Alan, I haven't heard…that's the problem._ " Penny turned anxiously towards Scott, entwining her manicured fingers together. Virgil bit his lip. Lady Penelope was usually better than Jeff at being able to stay calm and composed, even a little break from that was a warning sign.

"Well that's our problem too," Scott said, as ever managing to sound polite in front of Penny. Only Virgil could hear the resounding bitterness behind his words.

" _I know_ _boys_ , _but listen I…"_ Penny's eyes flickered around, almost guiltily. " _I'm sorry I didn't tell you all but Gordon contacted me two days ago asking me to look into something for him. I've tried to call him back but he won't answer…"_ She trailed off, studying the mixed expressions.

Alan was still stuck on the fact that Gordon had contacted someone, glancing around at his brothers in reserved elation. Scott blinked, unable to hide the hurt he was feeling at not being Gordon's first port of call. In fact _none_ of them were. Virgil tried to remain calm, but his blood turned cold. Gordon wasn't just a little brother to Virgil, he was his co-pilot, his constant (if slightly annoying) companion. The idea that he wouldn't turn to the middle brother for help was almost astounding.

When both of Virgil's usually very verbal brothers failed to answer Penelope, Virgil cleared his throat. "Ah well…wait _what?_ He called you? What about?"

Penny looked surprised to hear Virgil's voice, but turned gratefully towards him. She quickly explained Gordon's strange interest in the British board members. " _I found their names, records, nothing of consequence. I've wanted to fill Gordon in, but he just won't answer._ "

Virgil and Scott looked at one another, mirrored expressions of concern and confusion. Why on earth would Gordon be interested in those people? He couldn't possibly think…Virgil closed his eyes, feeling his heart sink. "Did he think the meeting was a set-up? Was that where he was going with this? Oh Gordon…"

Penelope nodded quickly. " _I came to the same conclusion Virgil. It's quite a…far-fetched idea, really. But I found the names for him anyway, so he can come to his own conclusions-"_

" _He won't find anything,_ " John's crisp voice made Virgil jump. His blue figure appeared out of thin air, hovering gently next to Lady Penelope's. He greeted her with a thin smile, " _I already looked into those men. They had no reason or motive to sabotage Dad's plane, the opposite really."_

Scott was still apparently speechless by all of this. Not only had Gordon not called him, but he was attempting to investigate workers of Tracy industries, and John of all people had done the same. "John you…when…"

" _I looked into them just after it happened. I was trying to find explanations, or someone to blame. It seems our little brother is trying to do the same."_

" _He seemed awfully excited about the whole idea,_ " Penelope said sadly. _"Perhaps he really thought it would lead him to Jeff._ "

There were murmurs of agreement. Alan was staring at them all as though they were crazy. He cleared his throat. "Um news flash guys, you're missing the point. Penny's saying that Gordon's not picking _up!_ Isn't that sending alarm bells ringing in those over-protective brains of yours?"

Scott looked at Alan. It took a moment to register his brothers words. His eyes widened. "But ah…Oh _god_ you're right. If Gordon thought he was on a trail then he would be waiting for that phone call." Quickly, Scott stood up. "Penny, what time did he call you?"

She didn't even need to think. " _Around eleven that night New York time. Then yesterday my contacts had reported back and I tried to get in contact with him. I thought he might be sleeping so I left it a while, but now I feel it's been too long…"_

Virgil could see the panic building in his brothers. Alan was anxiously hopping from foot to foot, Scott's hands were clenching, even John looked concerned. Despite his own worries, Virgil remained the voice of reason. Turning to Scott, he said, "Ok well, we know he was at Tracy industries, right? So all you need to do is call Mallory and check in with him. Perhaps he saw him go somewhere. There's no need to jump to conclusions."

Alan stopped jumping, now confused about how they knew Gordon was at Tracy Industries. But Virgil would leave that explanation for later. Scott nodded slowly, fists unclenching. He took a deep breath. "Right…ok…good idea Virgil."

Virgil nodded in his usual quiet manner, feeling anything but calm.

ooooo

Gordon woke to darkness. He blinked, stared up at the dark ceiling, and blinked again. Quickly he closed his eyes again, feeling an ache roll over him. Hmm. His bedroom was never this dark. The Tracy Island sun was always ready to attack his eyes as soon as he woke. The birds were usually there too, squawking away, but here it was silent. Why was it silent? Gordon hated silence.

A sharp pain flittered across the back of his head. Gordon hissed, squeezing his eyes tighter. In an instant it was gone again. Perhaps he was dreaming. But Gordon didn't remember his bed being this hard, it felt like concrete. Actually, it _was_ concrete. Had somebody swapped his bed for a slab of concrete? Very funny guys. Or perhaps he had been out drinking? Had he been drinking? Perhaps that would explain the pain in his head. Maybe he had passed out. Groaning, Gordon forced open his eyes again.

The pain returned, stronger this time, so much so that he wanted to throw-up. His throat was so dry, so raw, that Gordon wondered if he already had. Shivering violently, the aquanaut tried feebly to call out. It came out as a whimper. He _must_ have been drinking. That was the only explanation. Gordon had to get someone. Alan would be useless in this situation; too loud. Virgil would be too fussy and send him to the med-bay. John would probably step over him and go back to space. It had to be Scott. Gordon needed Scott, he could help him, and the eldest brother was better than Jeff finding out…

Jeff.

Something flicked in his mind and everything came back with an abrupt jolt. Gordon gasped loudly and his body convulsed with realisation. He struggled upwards; panic slotting in his mind as he recognized his hands were tied. Rope was tied tightly around his wrists, forcing the aquanaut's arms to be drawn behind his back. A sharp spasm shot through his shoulders at the sudden movement. Gordon fell back to the concrete, groaning as his body touched the cold surface again.

 _What the hell? What the hell? What the hell, what the hell, what the…?_ A memory stirred. The pain in the back of his head grew stronger. Penny. Phone call. Somebody had been there. Somebody had… _ugh._ Worms of light entered his vision. A door creaked. Footsteps echoed. It was all too much; pain erupted through his head at the approaching noise, and Gordon slipped back into darkness.

ooooo

Gordon wasn't alone when he woke again. Hushed voices floated towards him, whispering frantically from one of the corners of the room. Groggily, Gordon opened his eyes open ever so slightly, finding that the pain in the back of his head had somewhat dimmed. A splash of light shone in from beneath a door, barely illuminating anything. All Gordon could see was concrete. All he could feel was concrete too. The surface was cold beneath him; all he had was a light t-shirt and a pair of shorts to protect him, and that wasn't doing very much.

The room itself was quite big, with various shadows filling the space. Many chairs were stacked on top of each other and folded tables lined the walls, a few odd bits of junk lying around them. It was like some sort of storeroom. As he blinked, two shapes became clearer on the other side of the room. They were close together, paying no attention to him at all.

Gordon swallowed. He was desperately thirsty but thankfully, for once, not hungry. Instead he just felt sick. For a moment, he thought better to remain silent. After all, that's what his brothers were always telling him to do. But since when did he ever listen to them? "Hello?" he croaked, throat dry.

The whispered conversation stopped and there was silence. There was no way these people were friendly, unless they were completely oblivious to the guy lying on the floor, but Gordon decided to test his luck.

"There's not any water in here by any chance…?"

More silence.

"Or a light switch?"

There was shuffle from the corner. Gordon's vision blurred.

"And you're not going to untie me?"

No reply.

Gordon sighed. What on earth was going on? One second he was talking to Lady Penelope and the next thing he knew he was being hit over the head by some assassin. Well, maybe not an assassin because he wasn't dead, but sort of the same thing. A small, nervous laugh escaped his lips. "And you're not going to tell me what's going on either, right? Like…who are you? That's a good place to start. Maybe we could be friends. Probably not because you hit me and put me down here, but hey, I'll give anything a try…" it was nervous babbling, but somehow it helped calm him down. _Take it lightly, like everyone thinks you do. Make a joke out of it. Hey guys, I'm stuck in some room with a headache from hell, funny huh?_

The silence was broken by a vaguely familiar voice. It was a rather husky voice of a woman. "Still think this was a good idea?"

A now achingly familiar voice followed. "What else was I supposed to do? I heard what he was saying on the damn phone!"

"You don't think things _through_ that's your problem!"

"Yeah well, once I call _him_ this will all get sorted out. He'll probably thank us."

"He better."

Shuddering fiercely, Gordon winced at the strain in his shoulders. It was also putting increasing strain on his back. Just strain everywhere actually, including his heart, which was practically leaping out of his chest. "Mallory is that you? What the hell? It's _me_ , Gordon. You know…Jeff's kid…" Attempting to keep his tone light, Gordon failed as it came out more like a whimper. Oh crap. This was not good. Well, any situation where he ended up passed out on concrete wasn't good, but one that included a good family friend was even worse.

"I know it's you Gordon," Mallory's tone was low. The shadows in the corner began to move as the man made his way towards him. Gordon half expected him to have transformed into some sort of supervillain, but he was the same, short and balding. And _nervous_ apparently. As he stepped into the light Gordon watched as he wiped sweat from his forehead, fumbling with his handkerchief.

"Ok yeah well, I'd appreciate it if you untied me and ah…" Gordon swallowed, attempting to push himself into upright position.

Mallory sighed, shaking his head. He crouched down in front of Gordon with a pitying look on his face. "That isn't going to happen kid."

Gordon held his eye. "Yeah well, I'm not really one for kinky stuff, so…sorry guys."

There was a short humorless burst of laughter as the lady pushed herself forward. As she walked towards him, everything clicked. Ah, librarian woman, we meet again. Did Mallory hire her just to be his creepy partner in crime? No wonder Gordon hadn't met her before. But _why_ did he want Gordon? Gordon hadn't done anything. Mallory had no need for ransom money so this wasn't a kidnapping; Gordon hadn't threatened his position at all. But he said he'd heard the phone call to Lady Penelope. Gordon tried to remember what he had said. Nothing harmful, nothing about International Rescue, all he'd been doing was looking for Jeff…

Ah.

 _Mallory rescheduled to the 21_ _st_ _\- British board members wish to attend._

Gordon, despite himself, despite his situation, despite absolutely everything, _smiled._ Of course. The solution had been right beneath all of their noses and, even when lead right to it, Gordon had jumped to the wrong conclusion. He had assumed that the British members would have had something to do with rearranging the dates. Never a man he had known and trusted. Who Jeff had known and trusted. Gordon's smile turned into a chuckle, then the chuckle turned into a laugh. Soon, it became hysterical, and Gordon couldn't stop. His chest hurt as he gasped for air, entire body shaking from cold, or from _shock_ , or from _something._ Perhaps Mallory alone had sabotaged the plane. Perhaps he had murdered Jeff. Perhaps he would murder Gordon too… _God_ , he needed his brothers.

Mallory raised a hand and struck Gordon across the jaw. His head snapped to the side, body threatening to fall back onto the cold ground. Gordon breath caught in his throat, but the feverish laughter stopped. Panting, he nodded at Mallory. "I never…took you for a…violent man, Tom."

Mallory sighed heavily, climbing to his feet. He sent an almost desperate look toward the woman. She glared back, hands glued firmly to her hips.

"You look more like a nice neighbor that invites the whole neighborhood around for a barbeque," Gordon continued weakly. "I mean really…"

"Who is Lady Penelope?" The librarian asked coldly, getting straight to the point. She pursed her lips at him as though they were merely discussing him bringing a book back late. She looked like a Barbara, Gordon decided. That was a librarian name.

Gordon shrugged. "I don't know."

"You obviously do, you were talking to her."

"No I wasn't."

"…Tom," Barbara stared pointedly at Mallory. He sighed, wiping his forehead with his handkerchief again. He looked at Gordon with that pitying look. It was like he was thinking 'what a shame', or 'what a waste' as though Gordon simply had bad grades in school, or that he had just been in the wrong place, or born into the wrong family.

Gordon saw Mallory's hand that time, allowing him to move with the blow. It lightened his heavy hand, but stung just the same. Gordon cursed loudly, blood spilling from the side of his mouth. As red mixed with his shirt, Gordon hung his head, blinking away tears. "What are you really doing here kid?" Mallory asked.

"Vacation," Gordon spat back. He bought his head back up, jaw clenched in pain. "What the hell do you think Mallory? I'm looking for Dad. Which _apparently_ is something you know a whole bloody lot about?"

Mallory blinked at the outburst. He dipped his head, and turned towards Barbara, eyebrow raised. His tone was so casual that it enraged Gordon further. "See, I told you he knew. I wasn't just being jumpy"

She rolled her eyes. "You're always jumpy. All I'm saying is what do we do with him now? We can't exactly murder him, and somebody's going to notice that he's missing."

"No," Mallory tapped his foot on the ground impatiently. "I know all of that June. I told you, _he_ will sort it out, and everything will be fine. Nobody else has got any reason to suspect anything. Unless…" his eyes narrowed as he turned back to Gordon. "Have you told your brothers anything?"

Gordon spluttered. What was he _hearing?_ "Have I…told my…? _What?_ I said 'apparently' Mallory! What the hell? You made Dad crash? That was _you?_ How could you…how could you do that…why did you…" Gordon gasped for breath, head spinning. This wasn't happening, it was a dream. He would wake up and everything would be fine…

Barbara, or _June_ , groaned loudly, hitting Mallory on the shoulder. "You imbecile! He didn't know! Now look what you've gone and done."

Mallory shook his head. "It's just a trick June, don't worry. He's playing the fool but he knew all along."

"If I knew all along do you think I would have _come here?_ " Gordon yelled, completely overwhelmed by what was happening. Everything hurt, it even hurt to yell, but he didn't care. Was Jeff dead? Was that what Mallory was saying? "You did this just to get the company didn't you? You worthless _bastard-_ "

Mallory licked his lips, unfazed by the panic attack that was unfolding before him. He shot Barbara a pointed look, another 'such a shame' face. What was such a shame? That Gordon would _die,_ that he was just another casualty in this struggle of ambition? "How _could_ you?" Gordon repeated weakly.

Then, a phone began to vibrate. Mallory smiled at Barbara, or June, or librarian lady, or whoever the heck she was, before giving her a nod. She nodded back, pulled a scarf from around her neck, before moving to tie it around Gordon's mouth. She wrenched his jaw open, stuffed it in, and pulled tightly. _It even smelt like librarian._

Mallory held the phone out and placed it on speaker. Before Gordon could prepare himself, a distinctly British voice floated from the device, nasally tones instantly recognizable. Gordon tried to draw breath, heart plummeting as the final piece of the puzzle slipped into place. The Hood. So he was involved. Of _course he was._ They knew that all along hadn't they? They just hadn't realised he had some help in the matter.

" _What is it that's so urgent?"_ The Hood snapped, impatience laced through his words. It was a voice that sent shivers through Gordon. " _I told you only to contact me during an emergency."_

"Yes Sir," Mallory wiped at his forehead. "Well, we know you did, but this actually _is_ an emergency believe it or not and we ah-"

" _Get on with it you babbling fool._ "

"Right," Mallory took a deep breath. "We have one of the sons."

There was a significant pause. "You… _what?_ " the notes in the Hood's words were anything but pleased, anger brewing behind the sinister quiet.

Mallory swallowed, pulling on his shirt collar. Gordon realised why he was so determined that the aquanaut already knew about his part in the whole mess. Because if he hadn't, then Mallory had made a mistake, and no doubt the Hood was not very forgiving. "We have one of the sons," the CEO repeated. "He found out about me and has been snooping around in the offices. He was even calling someone to get proof that the British board was pushed by me to change the date of the meeting and well…err…"

The Hood's silence continued.

"Well, now we've got him, we're wondering what to…" Mallory trailed off.

 _"_ _You Idiot! How dare you do something like this without my permission? Do you know how much of a stir you will cause? Now you will draw the attention back to the family!"_ The Hood snarled.

"I…but we couldn't…"

 _"_ _God, I have to do everything myself. Imbeciles, the lot of you. You got what you wanted, and all you had to do was run Tracy Industries, just a simple task, but no you had to ruin it."_

"We thought you could-"

" _I don't care what you thought! It was wrong,"_ The Hood's breathing was loud on the other end as he came to a stop. _"Now what do you intend to do with him?_ "

"That's what we thought we'd ask you," Mallory choked.

" _Kill him._ " The Hood answered. Even Gordon was shocked with the abrupt statement. Gee, they didn't even have time to get to know one another and he was already shouting death sentences. Gordon tried to speak, but his words came out as a mumble through the scarf.

Mallory didn't say anything, and in the silence, Gordon heard something. It was so very faint that he couldn't be sure if he imagined it or not. A distant shout of _"no"_ crackled across the airwaves. It was such a short statement but it meant absolutely everything. Even with just two letters he could recognize that voice, he'd been listening to it most of his life after all.

 _Dad._

Instantly, Gordon's senses picked up, his eyes widened, his heart raced, and he felt a surge of strength power through him. He yelled through the scarf, not words, just _noise_ so that Jeff would hear him, and know that he was looking for him. That he never gave up hope that he was ok. Mallory hit him across the back of the head, but Gordon shook it off. Pain meant nothing now. Elation filled Gordon's systems. Jeff was _alive._ He was alive after all. Everything could be alright again; he just had to tell his brothers.

" _Actually…"_ the Hood's voice ruined Gordon's mood. He had obviously heard the cry too, and it had sparked an idea. " _On second thoughts, perhaps he could be useful persuasion…maybe I'd like him after all."_

Gordon didn't care what he said; all he could think of was getting to his father. Sure, let the Hood take him, once he was with Jeff they could work things out from there… But _no,_ the Hood was more than dangerous. If he had Gordon, perhaps it would force Jeff to talk, maybe even about International Rescue. And if he got hold of that information… _disaster._

"Oh…well," Mallory looked relieved at not having to murder somebody. Gordon supposed that was a good sign. "Good. Would you like us to deliver him to you or…?"

" _No_ ," the Hood's tone was sharp. " _No_ , _there's an abandoned warehouse, I will send you the co-ordinates. Be there with the boy tomorrow at four. I'd like a word with you in person as well, so be on time. Understood?"_

"Y-yes Sir."

" _…_ _one last thing. Which boy is it?_ "

Mallory blinked, stumbling over his words. "It's ah, the fourth one, Gordon, the ah-"

" _Ah yes, the swimmer._ " The Hood ended the phone call before anything else could be said.

Gordon laughed, somewhat choked by the scarf. This time, it was a genuine burst of amusement. Even the _Hood,_ the guy who hated International Rescue, who wanted to own the world, only knew him as the swimmer. But for once Gordon didn't really mind. Jeff was _alive._

"I wouldn't be laughing if I were you," June muttered, shaking her head at him, but it was obvious she didn't really care. If she got her handsome pay check, then she was happy. No doubt money was why she was a part of this. "You don't know what that man can do."

 _I think I know better than you, Laura Bush._ He wanted to say that, it was rather clever, but there was still a damn scarf in his mouth. For the next couple of minutes June and Mallory whispered together. She complained that he had been rash, he denied it, said he needed to protect his job; blahdy blahdy blah…Gordon didn't care. He had to do something. He was happy his father was alive, sure, but slowly the feeling was wearing off. What about his brothers? Alan would be lonely, Virgil would be brooding, John secretly searching, Scott worrying… _no_ , they'd be fine. Maybe Gordon _could_ do this on his own.

But what if Gordon never came back too? Sure, he might get to the Hood's lair or whatever the hell it was, and find his father, but what then? If it was possible to escape, then surely Jeff would have done it by now. What if the Hood just ended up with both of them? As his elation faded away, the pain began to return. Gordon groaned and shut his eyes. He had to get out of here. He had to tell his brothers, or Penny, or just _anyone_ , now that he had proof.

But would they even believe him? Was a simple 'no' proof? Gordon knew what he had heard, but others might not be so sure.

The phone began to ring again shocking Gordon out of his thoughts. Mallory jumped, almost dropping the device in the process. _"Shit!_ " he cursed loudly on seeing the caller ID, looking frantically towards Gordon. "If you've said anything I'm going to _kill_ you," he hissed, breaking from his nerves.

Gordon tilted his head, the only way he could convey he didn't understand.

Mallory ran a hand through his hair, forced a smile, and picked up the phone. "Ah Scott, what can I do for you?" he asked in a sickly positive tone. Gordon practically cheered, feeling instant relief on hearing Scott's name. He tried to moan loudly so that his brother would hear, but June quickly pulled tighter on the scarf.

"Have I seen Gordon?" Mallory asked, concerned. "Well let me think…not since we last spoke about him."

Last spoke? When had they last spoken? Why hadn't Scott talked to him?

"He left that evening and didn't return, I assumed he got the files he wanted."

There was a mumble on the other end. Gordon leant forward, desperately trying to hear what was being said. _Don't trust Mallory_ , he wanted to scream. "Alright Scott, I'll let you know if he turns up again. Have a good one now."

He hung up. Gordon sagged with disappointment. _No_ , that couldn't be _it._ Scott had to know, he had to just _know_ what was happening. But why was he looking? _Penny_ , Penny would have called. Was she worried about him? Gordon pushed the thought away, that didn't matter now, what mattered was that he get out. Or get word. Or _something…_ but his head was growing foggy again, the throb in the back of it forcing him to close his eyes.

ooooo

Virgil watched Scott put down the phone.

They had all heard the exchange, but none of them felt particularly enlightened by it. Grandma Tracy had sunk into one of the couches, one hand reached out to clasp Alan's. He returned her grip tightly but kept his eyes on Scott. They were all thinking the same thing, what now?

Scott was staring at the phone in his hand with distaste. "He said he hasn't seen him since we last spoke…which was the night _Penny_ last talked to Gordon. That means he must have gone somewhere …like a hotel? We could check hotel records?"

" _No,_ " John instantly shut down the suggestion, intensely focused on another screen that they couldn't see. He was moving his hands around, obviously navigating something. " _He never left._ "

"What?" Scott's foot tapped on the ground anxiously. Virgil moved closer to his brother, allowing their shoulders to touch. Scott stopped moving. "John, what are you talking about?" he asked, more calm.

John sighed and half-smiled. " _You know how you asked me to monitor him at Tracy Industries?"_

"Yes and you shut me down," Scott said bitterly.

" _Yeah well I might have done it anyway. I locked onto his position when we knew he was in Dad's office, and so far my gear is telling me that he hasn't left the building."_

"John Tracy you sneaky devil…" Virgil said in awe, studying the screen his brother was trying to show him. It was like a blue print of the Tracy Industries building, but there was a small green dot which indicated a presence. "So that's Gordo?"

" _Supposedly, yes…"_ John said.

"What on earth is he doing in the basement…?" Scott muttered, narrowing his eyes in thought. "There's nothing down there that he could want. That's one of the storerooms too…"

"Perhaps he really has found something," Alan whispered. Both his older brothers turned around at his small voice. Virgil's face softened on seeing how small his little brother looked, still dressed in pyjamas from when he was fourteen. Grandma patted his hand comfortingly, not wanting to give herself or her grandsons any false hope she remained quiet.

" _So he's just been searching in the basement for an entire day?"_ John asked disbelievingly. " _I just went over his movements and he's been down there a while. I don't like the look of this Scott…"_

John's tone and words were finality to Scott. Something which had been brewing since Mallory's first call was confirmed. Instantly the eldest straightened up and turned around to Virgil, eyes hard. "That's it. I'm going to New York."

Alan gasped lightly. Virgil widened his eyes and took a step back. "You're…you're… _no, Scott_ you're not going to New York."

"Yes I am, I'm _done,_ " Scott said firmly. "I'm done waiting. I'm done worrying about him, I'm done with arguing, I'm done missing his stupid jokes and that _damn_ grin. I'm done not having him around. End of."

Virgil looked around for support. _What?_ So was Virgil. He missed Gordon like hell, but he wasn't about to go prancing off to New York with five minutes warning. "Oh? _And w_ hat are you going to do?"

"I'm going to do what I should have done two weeks ago, which is drag his ass back here. I'll go to the office today and find him, that's final." Scott made to prance up the stairs, but was stopped by his Grandmother's outstretched hand.

"Language dear."

"Sorry. Don't try and stop me Grandma-"

"Stop you?" Ruth Tracy shook her head wildly. "No way, go, I want you to go. I _need_ you to go. If Gordon's in some sort of trouble then sort it out. I need my grandbaby back, and this family needs its sunshine."

Virgil's jaw almost dropped open. He had expected his Grandmother at least would be his ally in this. He turned to Alan, eyes pleading. "No you can't…this is crazy Scott, tell him Al-"

"No! He's finally being sensible," Alan grinned. Even just the prospect of Gordon coming back lit up his face. "I'll come with you!"

"No you won't," Scott growled, making his way up the stairs. "I'll do this on my own."

Virgil gaped at him. Why did everyone in this family have to be so rash? Why couldn't they think things _through?_ Everything had consequences, _everything_ , and sometimes Virgil was the only person who could see that. "Stop! What the hell Scott? You can't just _leave._ Remember that thing that we do… _International Rescue?_ "

The made Scott pause. He turned on his feet. "It will be for a day or two tops Virgil. I'll grab Gords and fly straight back, I promise." Virgil heard the silent _unless it gets more complicated._

"No!" Virgil turned to John, one final hope of support. John shook his head. "Who's going to fly 'One? Or be Field Commander if a rescue comes in? We can't call Kayo because it will ruin her undercover operation. She's been working on that for months! That means it's just me and Al!"

"Al can fly 'One." Scott said, completely dead pan.

Alan's mouth fell open. Virgil shook his head. That's it. Everyone had gone crazy. Gordon had left, and now Scott wanted to leave, and soon everybody would be gone except for him. They'd all run off with their reckless adventures while he was stuck here holding the damn fort. "Do you hear what you're saying?" Virgil yelled. "When would you _ever_ want that?"

"Al wants more responsibility, well fine, have it kid." Scott waved his hand as though they were talking about doing more chores around the house.

Alan nodded eagerly, eyes sparkling. "I can do it Virgil."

Virgil ground his teeth together. He couldn't hold the quiver from his tone. "No Alan. _Scott_ , seriously? You're willing to put Al at risk?"

Grandma Tracy cleared her throat, making them stop. She placed both her hands on Alan's shoulders and began steering him out of the lounge. "You two talk, when you've made a decision, let me know. The faster the better boys. Oh and Scott-" she turned around, a determined look in her eye. "I'm always ready to man the desk."

Scott nodded a brisk nod. John's form continued to float before them, not to be involved, but more as a sign of moral support. Scott turned to Virgil, eyes softening. "Virg, you'll be there on rescues. I trust _you_ to make the same calls as me. I know you won't let Al do anything rash, or anything to 'One. You're in charge, ok?"

" _No,"_ Virgil's voice broke. "Not ok Scott! You're just _leaving_ us!"

Scott looked confused. "Virg, it's only a day or two, I'll get Gordon I promise. I should have done this from the start. There's no way I'm coming back without him, so you don't have to worry."

"Two people is _not_ enough to handle IR!"

John cleared his throat loudly, sending Virgil a glare. " _Three, excuse you._ "

"Sorry John, I meant _field_ operatives-"

" _Still three._ _I'll be down this avo. Fancy a new co-pilot Virgil?"_

Scott grinned at his closest brother. Virgil felt some of the stress lift, but he still shook his head. "But who will answer all the calls-"

"Grandma," Scott and John said at the same time, sharing an amused look.

Virgil sighed heavily. It was only the start of the day and he already wanted to go back to bed and just hide from the world. But he couldn't do that now, not if International Rescue was in his hands. They were capable hands, he knew that. A little slower maybe, a little more thoughtful, but still just as capable.

"Virgil…" Scott said softly. "Just this one time I'm going to place my brothers importance over International Rescue. Ok? Are you going to let me do that?"

"One brother…" Virgil said softly, but then instantly regretted his words. What was he _saying?_ Gordon could be hurt, or trapped, or _lost_ …ok maybe not lost, but then again, it was Gordon. And here he was being selfish. Scott was putting aside his pride, putting aside his _duty_ , for the sake of everybody. So Virgil had to put aside his fears.

Scott shook his head, "not just one brother. If there's something I've learnt over these past weeks, is that we need Gordon to function, because what we're doing at the moment, that's not functioning. So I'm going to go and haul stupid brother number Four back here so we can try and get things back to normal."

Virgil nodded quickly, placing a hand on Scott's shoulder. "You're right, I'm sorry. I'll look after Al I promise."

"It's 'One I'm more concerned about."

"Oh yeah, her too."

"And John as well, right?"

 _"_ _Hey! Just go and get the fish back already will ya?"_

"Alright, alright," Scott chuckled, before drawing Virgil to him in an unexpected hug. Virgil stiffened slightly, but then relaxed. Scott pulled away and shot him a wink. "Just don't get any ideas about taking my position huh? I don't fancy getting booted to a desk job."

"Well, you'll just have to get home quick before I get too comfortable."

"Will do Virgil, will do."

Virgil watched his brother, trying to feel pleased, but failing. If he found Gordon, if he could bring him back, if they just worked as normal, than everything would be great. But that was too many if's for Virgil's liking. He hated being left behind, having to watch another piece of the family drift away from him. But this wasn't about Virgil, and he knew that, it was about all of them. It just felt so odd for Scott to leave now. If something happened to _him_ …well, Virgil wouldn't live through that. It would be like losing half of himself.

" _They'll be back before we know it,"_ John said softly, reading his thoughts.

"They better be…" Virgil muttered. "And you better get into the space elevator right now in case an emergency gets called in."

John grinned. " _Yes Sir_."

Virgil smiled softly at nothing as John swiped away. Who knows, maybe he would like being in command for a while. Maybe he, Alan, and John would be the dream team of rescuers. Virgil's smile grew at picturing every possible remark Gordon would have made about the situation. It would have been hilarious to him. The idea that the five of them would be together again lightened Virgil's mood. Maybe it really would work out after all.

ooooo

 _ **Note: Wow, thank you everyone for the reviews, I really love reading them all! Also**_ _ **get-me-out-my-mind**_ _ **, very nice guessing! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, the next one should be up soon as I'm really on a roll with this story. No cliff hanger this time too!**_


	8. Chapter 8

Gordon had attempted to escape five times, six if he counted getting to his feet and falling back down. Ok, a little pathetic but hey; it was the thought that counted. It was only by the sixth escape attempt that Mallory brought out his gun. Seeing that walking hadn't worked well, Gordon had tried to roll his way toward the door, but he didn't get far before feeling the kiss of cool steel pressed against his neck.

Needless to say the aquanaut was now back in his corner and tied tightly to one of the spare chairs. It felt nice to be upright but his body hurt all over. A definite ache stung in his shoulders from being tied back, but the pain in his head was worse, pounding against his skull like an insect banging against a window, itching to escape. But Gordon gritted his teeth and pushed through it. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

From there time slept in fits and bursts, moments of confusion mixed with agonizing waiting. He spent a long time trying to get the rope off his wrists, rubbing it against the chair or itself to weaken it. But nothing happened apart from scraping skin from his hands. Eventually Gordon gave up. There were no windows so he couldn't tell how long it had been, or how much longer it would be until he was given to the Hood. He tried to think of more ways to get out, because Tracy's didn't give up and all that, but his head was foggy and his body weak.

Gordon dozed now and again; hoping that something would change that he could improvise with, but every time he woke up it was still the same. His head still hurt, his throat was dry, he was tied, it was dark, and one of the traitors was always standing watch.

Gordon felt he should have been able to take them. Scott would have had them both down in a heartbeat, but then again, he was a military boy. Virgil's strength alone would be enough to get him out of the situation, perhaps John's brain would have been too. But Gordon didn't really have any of that. He, like Alan, was annoying. So if he couldn't find a way out, he would just irritate the heck out of his captors. "Hey, my nose is itchy…can you untie me for a millisecond so I can relieve myself of this torture?"

There was a low grunt, indicating it was Mallory in the corner rather than June. Gordon narrowed his eyes at the bulky figure, seeing that the Librarian was no longer in the room. She must have left while he was dozing. "Ok, well can you itch it for me?"

"How about I hit you again and you forget about it?"

Gordon rolled his eyes. Mallory sure didn't suit trying to sound dramatic. "Hey Mallory, shouldn't you be at work or something? Don't you have a million dollar business to run?"

Tom shifted, raising his handkerchief to his forehead as though that was an acceptable answer. Gordon would have felt sorry for the man, as his 'talk' with the Hood loomed he was getting more nervous by the second. But then again, he did cause Jeff's crash and threw Gordon into a basement, so the aquanaut wasn't exactly in a pitying mood.

"No? Ok then…ya know this isn't actually going to work right? I mean I thought you had to have brains to work here."

Mallory had taken to pacing around the room, his thin lips always pursed in irritation, as though Gordon was some inconvenient fly that had managed to hit his windshield. With gun in hand he was constantly fiddling, but on hearing this comment he stopped.

Gordon decided this was a good sign. "You both obviously did this for money, right? You wanted to take over the business, but Barbara- I mean _June_ settled for lowly receptionist. Hoody must have paid her a bit to get involved huh? Shame it's all going to be taken away."

"Nothing's going to be _taken_ ," Mallory said sharply. He made some guttural noise in his throat like a defensive animal. "After you're gone everything will return back to normal. You'll see."

"Well actually I won't see, I'll probably be dead," Gordon chuckled humorlessly, feeling awfully hollow as he admitted that to himself. "But yeah, like I said, there's no way you're going to pull this off."

"What do you know?" Mallory spat, turning sharply on his heel. He was getting more agitated by the second. "What are you 20? 21? You're still a kid. Kids do stupid things; people will think you just ran away, or maybe it all got too much for you. The media will spin one story or another and everyone will go for it. They always do."

"My brothers' aren't _everyone_ ," Gordon said softly. "They won't believe any of that."

"Oh please," Mallory snorted. He shifted the gun, catching a strand of light and reflecting it to the other side of the room. "Your brothers aren't a threat. They trust me and Tracy Industries. The security camera footage has all been replaced. It will simply show you arriving and then leaving later that night. It will be just like you disappeared off the face of the earth. Father like son, I suppose."

Gordon glowered into the darkness. How _dare_ he? He was a man that had been trusted, been a good friend, who then turned around and simply betrayed Jeff for _greed._ This man had been working with Scott for the past month, he could have been planning to do the exact same thing to him and they never would have known about it. Gordon's blood began to boil at the thought. _What would they have done if that had happened?_

But now, if Gordon went missing, at least none of his brothers would be in danger. It would be too obvious or draw too much attention to have three Tracy's disappear in less than a year. A smile slithered onto his lips. Perhaps that's what he should think of it as. A sacrifice. He was the sacrificial brother. They could have a big ceremony about how he gave his life for the good of the family. Hmm, Gordon always was one for dramatics. Not that his brothers would ever really know what happened.

Would they think he just abandoned them? Would they listen to the news reports claiming runaway, or suicide? No. Surely not. The aquanaut cursed himself for not calling them. He had chosen his pride over his family, and now he was never going to get to speak to them again. Oh god, the last thing he'd done with Scott was argue. They had never made up. Gordon couldn't just _leave_ like this. He'd never even get to say goodbye…

Screw this. Gordon started tugging on the rope again, pulling with all his strength to get it to budge. Trying to look natural, Gordon continued the conversation. "Why did you do it? Dad was your _friend._ You were practically head of the company anyway!"

"I would _never_ be head of the company while your father was around." Mallory scoffed, turning his back on Gordon, "even when he put me in charge people always insisted they ran things past Jeff. Not only that but I heard a little rumor he was looking for a replacement…when the Hood approached me, well, it seemed like fate."

"So, you got your happy ending?" Gordon hissed. "Good for _you_."

"Except for your brothers and you in the way, I suppose," Mallory sounded so bored, so indifferent, that Gordon reached breaking point. Who placed their own greed over another person's life? If people so close were betraying them, who was there left to _trust_? How many people inside Tracy industries were willing to sell them out for their own advancement? _This_ was why International Rescue was a secret. Because when it came down to it all, they could only trust family.

"I expected that none of you boys would be up to running the business," Mallory continued talking, unaware of the raging battle in Gordon's mind. "You've never really seemed like the type if I'm honest. But then damn _Scott_ gets put in charge and it's Jeff all over again. I might have to do something about that later on…"

That did it. Letting out a strangled curse as the rope failed to budge; Gordon impatiently pushed his legs out and sent the chair flying backward. There was a significant crack as something snapped. Gordon rolled quickly to the side, but found that the chair still came with him. He yanked his hands violently forward, wincing at the strain on his wrists, but with one final push the back of the chair broke, and his hands were free.

Mallory, eyes wide and startled, was slow in getting the gun around. Gordon dove towards the man's legs. He wasn't sure where this burst of energy came from, but a sudden fire filled his veins that turned the darkness into red. Rage flooded his system and Gordon didn't have time to think. Mallory stumbled backwards by the force of his tackle, but never let go of the gun. Desperately, Gordon tried to ply the gun from his hand, but Mallory was stronger than he looked. A thick arm wrapped tightly around Gordon's throat, another brought the gun up to his temple. Gasping for air Gordon wiggled in the tight grip.

"How many _times_ will you _try that?_ " Mallory hissed into his ear. "I swear once more and you're gonna get a bullet in your leg. Understood?"

Gordon spat at him, prompting the man to squeeze tighter, cutting off the aquanaut's airway. Strange shapes burst before his vision as Gordon struggled hard to make him let go. Blood pounded through his head, drowning out all other sound as his body fought for air. He fought back desperately. There was no giving up now, if he let himself go then he would wake up in the clutches of the Hood…and there would be no going back from there. A light shivered in front of Gordon's vision making his head spin. He closed his eyes. _Would he kill him? Would Mallory really kill him?_

A shot rang out.

It crackled through the air, belatedly reaching Gordon's ears. It sounded somewhat muffled, like his head was filled with cotton wool, it might have even been his heartbeat. But then Mallory's hand dropped away and Gordon found he could breathe again. He slumped forward, drawing in air.

Somebody was cursing loudly. A shadow loomed over Gordon but he didn't have the strength to open his eyes fully. There was the sound of metal clunking, something shifting, but it all felt distant and far away. Then someone was yelling, two voices maybe. It was loud; Gordon wanted them to be quiet.

A voice cut through the fog. A voice that Gordon needed to hear more than any other in that moment, " _Gordon?_ " With the sound of his name, Gordon switched back on. His eyes flung open and he was met with the face of his brother kneeling before him. That _stupid (_ yet welcome) concerned expression was plastered across his face. Strong hands came down on his shoulders. "Hey? Are you with me? Gords?"

"Yes…" Gordon choked breathily, "...how did…?" He would have asked how Scott found him, but in that moment he didn't care. The eldest was there and that's what mattered. There were no police or security with him; he did this the Scott Tracy way, alone and reckless, barging into a situation with no thought or planning. He did that for Gordon, and Gordon had never been more relieved to see someone in his life. Without warning the aquanaut launched himself towards his brother. Scott didn't push him away, but drew him into a fierce hug. As the elder's strong arms wrapped tightly around him, Gordon collapsed into his brother, a million things on his tongue but no strength to say them.

Instead Scott spoke, refusing to let go. "You are an idiot you know that? A complete imbecile…do you know how worried they- _we_ all were? Do you see what happens when you leave? Bad things. Two weeks Gordy and you end up tied in the basement of Tracy Industries…how did that even _happen_ …one phone call would be all it took, one phone call…" his words were rushed and fierce, but as he pushed outward to examine Gordon, his eyes grew soft.

Gordon looked away, feeling ashamed under his brother's gaze. Instead his eyes travelled past Scott's shoulder, eyebrows rising on seeing Mallory clutching his leg, face white. "Ah Scott…" Gordon whispered. "You shot a guy."

"I'm well aware of that." Scott's tone grew dark as he looked toward Mallory, eyes hardening.

"…he's still awake."

"But he won't get very far now, will he?"

"No…no…" Gordon blinked, reaching forward to hold onto Scott so he could stay upright.

"I assume you're going to give me a good reason for shooting him."

Gordon half-smiled. "Apart from having a gun pointed at my head and tying me to a chair? Plenty-" Gordon's words clipped short, smile fading. His hands squeezed tightly on Scott's arm. "Oh _god_ …the librarian Scott you have to get her she's in on this too-"

"The _librarian?_ In on what? Gordy?"

Words moving faster than his brain, Gordon could only offer a garbled attempt at explanation. "Dad…Scott they helped lead _him_ to Dad, they moved a meeting…maybe they got paid I don't know…but now they were going to give me to _him,_ and maybe do the same thing to _you…_ but…but," Gordon gasped. "Today Scott! What time is it? Is it almost four? We have to hurry…we h-have to-"

"Gordon." Scott commanded, tone firm. Gordon swallowed and looked at his brother. "Breathe then tell me what happened." It wasn't a question, but an order, and for once Gordon followed it.

Gordon took a deep breath, finding comfort in his brother's strong hands, before explaining everything that had happened. He sped through his weeks at the Global Defense force, landing on the past few days and the revelations that took place, "So that's why we have to hurry Scott! The Hood is going to be at that place at four…we can't miss him, we have to be there or else…" Gordon panted, watching his brother intently.

Scott was staring at the floor, brain working in overdrive. After a long silence he lifted his phone and dialed for someone. First it was the Tracy Industries security office, ordering them to detain June and collect Mallory. Then he began to dial for the Global Defense force.

Gordon stuck out his hand too violently, knocking the phone away. "No Scott!"

"What the hell Gordon? If what you say is true, we need to get the co-ordinates from Mallory, and send agents out there!"

"But what about Dad?" Gordon shook his head, discarding his pain as he urged his brother to see. "If the Hood sees a bunch of GD people he's just going to flee again! Then we'll be no closer to getting Dad back. He's expecting _me_ so if _I_ show up there then it will lure him out. Just stick a tracking device on me…o-or something…" Gordon trailed off, halted by the expression on Scott's face.

"There is _no_ way I'm sending you into the hands of that man," Scott said slowly, jaw clenched. He placed both arms on Gordon's shoulders and squeezed tightly. "Now tell me, how do you know he has Dad? Did any of them say anything specifically about him?"

Gordon felt his heart sink. He held his brothers gaze. It was make or break now. "I _heard_ him Scott. Ok? I _heard_ Dad. I'm not crazy, or delusional, or stupidly hopeful I _promise._ You have to believe me-"

"You heard him? In the background?"

Gordon glared at him. Scott was moving too slowly, they had to go _now_ if they were going to make it in time. Instead they were just wasting it. "Yes in the background! I didn't _talk_ to him, I just heard him, I know it doesn't seem like much but I know it was him…and then the Hood said something about using me as persuasion, I don't know what that means but-"

Scott nails dug into Gordon's shoulder subconsciously. "What? He said that? I'm going to _tear_ that man apart!"

Gordon blinked. "…what? Scott-"

But Scott had let go, quickly he moved over to Mallory. Mallory's eyes widened seeing that Scott still had his gun. Gordon wondered for a moment where he got that from. Jeff hated firearms, and so did the boys, but now and again they were necessary. "You _bastard!_ " Scott hissed, with more emotion than Gordon had heard from him in a long time. "If my brother wasn't right there you would be _dead._ I can't believe you would do this. I trusted you-"

Gordon shuffled forward, not ready to stand on his own yet. Instead he reached out to hit the pilot on the leg. "Scott we haven't got time for this!"

Scott nodded briskly, reigning himself in. He pointed the gun at Mallory's head. "Give me the co-ordinates _now._ "

Mallory spluttered them out just before the security guards came barreling into the room. Both froze upon seeing the situation, but they didn't question it. Nobody questioned Scott Tracy. He ordered them to take Mallory away and call the police. With a strong hand he grasped Gordon's elbow and practically lifted him to his feet. "Do I need to take you to a hospital?"

Every part of Gordon's body was screaming _yes._ But not yet. Not now. He shook his head. "No Scott, I'm fine, what's the plan…what are we going to do?"

"You're not going to do anything. _I'm_ going to finish what you started."

"What? Then you believe me?"

"Of course I do."

Gordon flooded with relief upon hearing those words. "Good, ok…ok _good…_ " his brain struggled to comprehend what they would do, how they would do it. "But wait- of course I'm coming! He's expecting _me_ to be there-"

"You can barely stand," Scott said bluntly, removing his hand from Gordon's arm to prove his point. Gordon's legs shook without the support and he stumbled. Scott quickly secured his grasp. "So first I'm going to make sure you're safe, and then I'm going to go and find this son of a b-"

"So what?" Gordon cut in angrily. "I'd be too much of a _liability_ there? Is that what you're saying?"

"You're not a damn liability Gordon!" Scott snapped. "I never should have said that! Over these last couple of weeks we've needed you more than ever, ok? Not just for rescues either but just _around._ Don't you see what you've done? You were brave enough to go out and look. You've _found_ Dad. You exposed Mallory, you've done _so well._ But now, for my sake, for my _sanity_ , I need you to let me do this. Not as a comment on you, or your abilities, but as _my_ duty."

Gordon's lip trembled, feeling a wash of emotion shiver through him. He closed his eyes. "You can't face the Hood alone…"

"Who said anything about being alone?"

ooooo

It was awfully convenient that they were called out to a rescue in New York.

In fact, as the minutes dragged on, John was finding it more and more ironic, and far less plausible than he first hoped. Every sensible thread in his body was telling him that _no_ , this was not just a coincidence. But John refused to listen to his sensible side for once. He had accepted it as Virgil sprang the news that there was a fire in a derelict house. It had people trapped inside, and could spread if not dealt with immediately, so they had both jumped into Thunderbird Two and set off.

But Virgil hadn't said a word the entire journey, and as they were making their descent into a large grassy area, John didn't see any flames. In fact, he didn't see any police, or ambulances, or firetrucks or anything. He did see a house, hidden by trees, but nothing was amiss. As Thunderbird Two touched the ground the two brothers sat in silence for a moment.

Virgil was looking guiltily at his shoe, obviously waiting for John to say something.

John gave a small smile. If he was up in Thunderbird Five he would have seen _right_ through this. If Jeff was here he would have killed them. If Scott was in charge, he probably would have killed them too. But Virgil had seen the opportunity and he had taken it. Always the opportunist, was John's younger brother. The astronaut reached toward him and patted Virgil on the shoulder, "Good job. We dealt with that fire in record time. Saved five people too, what a mission."

Virgil raised a solitary eyebrow, lips twitching.

This only confirmed John's theory. He shook his head. "And you said _I_ was the sneaky devil. Virgil, I really am impressed."

"I had to be here John," Virgil rushed. "I promise, I'll tell them it wasn't your idea, but I had to be around just in case something happened to Gordon…I'm _sick_ of being left behind and having to wait all the time. We were having a slow morning, so I thought we could just…" he shrugged. "Be around? If there's a rescue call we'll fly straight back out. I swear, we're not harming anyone-"

"Virg," John stopped his rambling, awfully amused at how panicked his brother was at breaking the 'rules'. "You're in charge, remember? Solutions easy. We just won't tell Scott."

Virgil blinked, the concept very foreign to him. It was also foreign to him that his far more sensible older brother was agreeing to this without much fuss. "We won't tell…well, ok, I guess that'll work too. He'll be angry if he finds out…"

John shrugged. "He won't find out. Scott's easy to keep things from. It's _you_ who always knows everything. You know it's kind of creepy, especially when someone tries to hide an injury."

"Hey, you're the eye in the sky Mr."

"I have far more interesting things to do than spy on my brothers."

"Oh yeah? Looking at stars?"

"Hmm, and you know, doing my job."

Virgil grinned sheepishly. "After today I'll go back to normal, I promise. It's just…I can't focus when I'm worried about them! You know me."

"So you just put in a false call? How did you convince Grandma?"

"Well…" Virgil grimaced. Lying to his Grandmother had been the hardest part. "When she went to the kitchen I pretended a call came in and that I answered it…nothing too major."

John chuckled. "Alright then."

"…alright?"

"You better have bought a book for me to read."

Virgil dished out one of John's favorite's, obviously brought along as some form of bribery. The astronaut caught it gladly. Virgil smiled as John instantly buried his nose into it. The artist was entirely glad that John was the one with him, because John didn't question things, not when they made sense to him. So he sat back, and settled in for a nice, quiet, wait…

" _Hey fellas, I'm heading your way. I just fixed that satellite and Grams says you're gonna be battling a fire. Thought I may as well tag along, nothing else is happening. Funny that it's in New York huh? We could give Gords and Scotty a ride home or something…But I'm so glad to be flying 'One a little further than just round the bend ya know? She is so glorious. I can't believe this is actually happening! I'm going to make the most of it before Scott takes her back-"_

"Al, take the pace down a notch." John said, not at all fazed by the transmission.

" _The pace of 'One? But she's not even going full-"_

"No, the pace of your words. Remember breathing is a thing that you have to do."

" _Oh_ ," Alan chuckled. _"Right, sorry."_

Virgil looked panicked, glancing between John and the coms. "What do we tell him?" he whispered.

John shrugged. "The truth."

"The truth? But he'll just-"

"It's just as hard for Alan to wait around too, you know that." John said quietly, paging through his book at rapid pace. "He hates being left behind as well. We shouldn't leave him out."

Virgil sighed and nodded, seeing John's point. John smiled. Conversations with Virgil were always his favourite, because the two of them tended to listen to their sense a whole lot more than the others. They could also sit in silence for hours on end, enjoying one another's company while entertaining themselves with books or art.

"You're worried too huh?" Virgil asked softly, staring out the window of 'Two. "You're not really putting a fuss up about this."

John tilted his head, trying to figure out if he was actually worried. Now that Scott was going after Gordon, it didn't feel like there was much to be concerned about. Scott knew what he was doing. "Well, Gordy is my favourite brother, you guys know that right?"

Virgil glared at him playfully. "You're not allowed to have favorites John. Besides, it's only when he's gone. When he's mocking your books, stealing your stuff, and throwing up in 'Five he's not exactly charming."

"No…" John smiled ruefully. "I'm just desperate to get him back. It's like there's no light around when he's gone."

Something flickered in Virgil's eyes. He nodded, knowing exactly what John meant. The sound of Thunderbird One's thrusters echoed around the clearing, Alan landing her rather perfectly next to 'Two. John grinned. He sure was a good flyer.

The confused and slightly annoyed tones of Alan entered the coms. Virgil was prepared to spend the next half hour trying to convince him to stay quiet about the whole thing, but Alan instantly understood. With surprising maturity he asked if they wanted him to go back home. John could tell he didn't want to, but like his eldest brother, Alan was putting his duty before his personal wants. They insisted he waited with them until a call came through. Eventually the youngest agreed and the three of them lapsed into silence.

An hour later, John practically fell of his chair when Scott's voice entered his ear. " _Virgil,"_ he said quickly, no greeting, questions, or updates, much to John's annoyance. " _How long will it take for you to get to New York?_ "

"We're already here." Virgil answered instantly, no hint of his former panicked state.

" _What_?"

"Rescue. Fire. Just finished. What do you need? Have you found Gordon?"

A faint voice spoke from near Scott. " _One me accounted for Virg, still as awesome and handsome, and mostly intact."_

A smile burst onto John's face on hearing Gordon. He closed his eyes and breathed out, relieved. Ok, maybe he _had_ been a little worried. Virgil was grinning broadly, and there was an ecstatic cry from Alan. Scott was not joining in with the ecstasy. " _Are you all here?"_

Virgil sent a guilty look toward John. "Yes we are. What's wrong? Has something happened?"

To their relief Scott didn't mention the awful coincidence of them being in New York. " _Listen, can you move to an isolated spot and then send me your co-ordinates? Make sure it's clear and be quick about it. This is urgent."_

Virgil cleared his throat and booted up 'Twos thrusters for Scott's benefit. "Alright, no problem. What's this about?"

" _It's about Dad."_

The simple comment sent chills down John's spine. Gordon hadn't actually _found_ something had he? There was no _way_. Virgil sobered up; happiness from hearing his brother was alright draining at news of their father. The artist delivered their co-ordinates to Scott, saying he knew a place and would fly there fast. Alan did the same.

"Maybe you really are telepathic…" John muttered quietly, eyes flickering towards Virgil. He often marveled at the strong connection between Scott and the artist.

Virgil shrugged, "call it intuition." His fingers tapped nervously on 'Two's controls. John let it go and tried to relax back in his chair. No point worrying about events he couldn't control. Scott would explain it all and everything would become clear. For a moment, John wished he was still up in 'Five. He was always far more use up there than on earth.

"You don't think he found him, do you?" Alan's small voice asked.

Virgil sighed. "I don't know Al. Try not to get your hopes up, ok?"

"Ok…"

" _Guys…"_ Gordon's voice crackled over the com. _"I know you're all gonna be super eager to see me, but no tears ok? I've already had one brother break down and tell me how much he needed me, so no more, please."_

Scott growled in the background, muttering something they couldn't hear. Alan snorted. "In your dreams brother."

John played along. "Yeah? Who are you again?"

" _The household help, remember?"_

John smiled, feeling a rush of fondness for the aquanaut. In truth he was very eager to see him. But he wasn't so sure he was eager for the news he carried with him. "Alright, come on then, tell us what's going on."

So Scott told them. Gordon added over zealous embellishments here and there, trying to keep his brothers calm with a bit of humor thrown in. But there was no denying the horror of the situation. Mallory was a man they had all trusted and known. He had not only betrayed Jeff, but wanted to give Gordon to the same man, it was _disturbing,_ and even John felt his anger begin to boil.

But then Gordon mentioned hearing Jeff, and everything slipped out of balance again. John remained quite still throughout the explanation, but felt anything but still inside. He had been _ok._ He had convinced himself that Jeff was gone and never coming back, despite this being an unpopular opinion with his brothers. Having hope was a bad thing, especially for John, and this was giving him hope.

 _"_ _The Hood's plan was to meet Mallory at Four today. We've got the co-ordinates. I've contacted the GD and filled them in on the situation. I asked them to try and lock onto any vehicle signal that enters that area. But I told them not to try and interfere, or meet the Hood, because that will just make him run again-"_

 _"_ _That was my idea!"_ Gordon interjected.

 _"_ _Yes. They're going to post agents nearby, but not within a short radius because he may be able to detect life forms. We don't want that frightening him away either. But… we might be enough to spark his interest."_

John was wary. "What do you mean _we?_ "

" _I'll explain soon,_ " was all Scott said before cutting off.

"We means _him._ " Virgil answered bitterly. He rolled his eyes and got to his feet, heading for 'Two's exit. John didn't need to ask him where he was going. Any news of Jeff, whether good or bad, would have shaken Alan, and it was no good for the youngest to be on his own. John followed Virgil out of 'Two, where Alan was already waiting on the grass. He stood cautiously next to the jet. One hand stroked her metal side; the other was in his pocket.

The three of them stood together, John trying to gage the others reactions. Virgil was very good at hiding his emotions; Alan on the other hand was clearly upset. His lip quivered and those blue eyes darted around nervously, not meeting either of his brothers. "…if Scott hadn't come, if he had been a little later then…Gordon would have gone with the Hood too."

Virgil placed a hand on Alan's shoulder. "We don't think about that though. Scott got here in time. Apparently, so did we."

Alan nodded slowly, thoughts still pre-occupied with 'what if's'. "Do you think it really was Dad? That Gordon heard?"

John and Virgil shared a look. Even though the astronaut was a renowned skeptic, he still wanted desperately for it to be true. But Gordon could have been hearing things, what he wanted to hear, especially if he was tired and dehydrated. Virgil on the other hand was a little more hopeful. "Well, I trust Gords on this one. We all know what happens when we don't trust him."

Alan smiled softly, almost proudly, like his closest brother had proved them all wrong. Well, essentially, Gordon had.

Eventually the screech of tires caught their attention. A black SUV rocketed up the long gravel path to the clearing, skidding to a halt a little too close to 'Two for Virgil's liking. Before he could yell anything, Scott leapt out of the car. Gordon climbed out the other side. "I hope you have insurance on the rental Scotty, I don't think it's ever been driven like a race car before."

"Gordon!" Alan leapt in the air excitedly, before racing towards his brother. Gordon pretended to climb back into the car upon seeing him. Virgil looked like he wanted to do the same as Alan, but held himself back and greeted Scott instead. Their eldest brother was still bristling with anger at where he found Gordon, and the story that had followed.

"Is he alright?" The medic in Virgil burst free.

Scott shook his head. "No."

"What?"

"We didn't exactly have time to stop, and he pretended he was ok, so I went with it."

" _Scott…_ "

"Don't _Scott_ me, there's not time!"

"Ok, ok…"

"Hey _guys_ nice to see you too," Gordon called as Alan began leading him towards them. John winced as he moved closer. He had dried blood beneath his nose, bruises blossoming on one side of his face. Red rings of raw skin around his wrists were all the evidence that remained of his situation. Virgil forgot Scott for a moment and enveloped Gordon into one of his bear hugs. Gordon met John's eye over the artists shoulder and rolled his eyes. _Softies._

John smiled at him. "Good to see that you managed to annoy a few people."

Gordon grinned. "That's my job, isn't it?"

Scott cleared his throat, gesturing to his watch. "I know we all want to…catch up, but there really isn't time. Virgil and Al, can you take Gordon to Two's medbay? Sort him out Virg and then meet us back here. John, I need to talk to you. Al stay with Gordy…oh and also, nice flying."

Alan beamed, with that compliment he instantly forgot his annoyance at being told to stay. John grinned. Scott sure did know them well. Even Virgil wasn't irritated at being butted out of the conversation, distracted by a brother in need. Gordon saluted them both, giving Scott a meaningful stare.

John breathed out slowly, turning to Scott. "Did you call the police?" he asked quietly before the pilot could spout whatever idea had come to mind.

Scott nodded. "They have Mallory and June in custody. I promised I would return with Gordon so he could give a statement after I took him to 'hospital'. But hopefully the GD will interfere, this crime is about Dad's case after all, and they're the ones with jurisdiction."

John nodded, satisfied with that. As long as authorities were aware what was happening, he was happy. Considering that the officials of the GD were the only ones that knew they were International Rescue, it was always preferable to have them on the case. "So what's the plan then?"

"It's just gone two o'clock now…" Scott said slowly, checking his watch. "You're going to hate me for this John but…we need to get to that warehouse. The only people that will entice the Hood onto the ground is one of _us._ If it's anyone else, he'll just run. I've talked to the GD and they agree with that, but they'll have agents nearby to keep us safe… Do you get what I'm trying to say?"

"That you want to confront the Hood on your own? No _way,_ " John's words were firm and final.

Scott smiled. "Close, but no. I want to confront the Hood with you."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"…well that came out of nowhere."

"This is for Dad, John." Scott said, holding John's stare intently. His eyes glimmered with determination. "I really believe Gordon's right, this is _it._ This is how we get Dad back. We have to try or I'd never forgive myself."

John nodded. Despite everything screaming inside him that this was a bad idea, despite every string of common sense wanting him to correct Scott in thinking this was _it,_ he nodded.

Scott continued. "There's no way I'm putting any of the others in this situation, it's too dangerous. Especially not Gordon, he's in no state to go."

John chuckled softly. "Wait a second…but you're going to put _me_ in this situation? Gee thanks Scott."

Scott's eyes flickered. "I don't think I can face him on my own."

John's words caught in his throat. It took a _lot_ for Scott to admit that. "…He's a powerful man Scott, more than a powerful man. Just the two of us against him? We can't _do_ anything."

"We just need to get him there long enough for the GD to lock onto his signal. That's it. We don't have to fight him, we just have to talk."

"But you said he's there for Gordon…so won't he try to take us?"

"Any sign of that and the agents will step in."

John pondered on this for a moment. All they had to do was talk. But what made Scott think that the Hood would want to talk to them? Wouldn't he sense a trap if two Tracy brothers showed up instead of one? Or would he take the opportunity to gloat? John sighed. None of that mattered. Well, it did matter, very much so, but not in that moment. All he could think of was Jeff, and how much he wanted to see him. "Fine, I'll come with you."

Scott nodded, shoulders slumping. "Thank you."

"Virg isn't going to like being left behind again."

"I know…" Scott said quietly. "But Gordon needs him right now, he has to know that."

John nodded and watched the middle brother approach them.

ooooo

Alan was studying Gordon intently. Every bruise on his face, every small scrape or scratch, it was all being taken in by his youngest brother. Gordon grinned groggily at him, having been filled up with pain killers and various other liquids, he felt better than he had all week. Alan's elatedness at seeing him again had somewhat faded; now the two of them sat in silence. Virgil had gone to speak to Scott and John, leaving them alone.

Alan smiled as something came to him. "I got up to level thirty three while you were gone."

Gordon tilted his head, catching on instantly. "Damn, you must have had a _lot_ of spare time."

"Yeah, well actually…I was pretty busy with rescues. I got to drive 'Four you know."

"Was it you that broke that pipe, crashed into that cave, couldn't patch that hole, hit the shark, or accidentally got caught up in that whirlpool?"

Alan grinned sheepishly, kicking his feet against the floor. "…the whirlpool."

Gordon snorted. "Nice. I thought that one might have been a media exaggeration."

"Nope, got caught up in all that seaweed and all!"

"I'd have loved to see your face when that happened."

"Yeah, I was pretty horrified. Didn't get to drive her again after that."

"Sounds like the others didn't do a very good job either though."

Alan nodded smugly, "My thoughts exactly!"

"So you missed me then?" Gordon asked, wiggling his eyebrows. "The 'Four extraordinaire?"

The youngest shrugged. "Not really."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah…" Alan paused, smile fading. He nudged Gordon's arm. "You could have called me. I wouldn't have told the others that you did…but you should have called at least _me._ "

Gordon placed his head back on the pillow, sighing sadly. "I know Al, I know. I wish I did."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well that's ok then… Hey, when we go back home do you wanna help me get onto level thirty four? The one I'm on is tricky."

Gordon grinned. That was that. Home sounded _really_ nice about now. "Hell yeah, I am the master of zombie fish."

Alan snorted and shook his head, settling back into the chair. Gordon's head felt thick and heavy, his eyelids flickered as they lapsed into silence. They flashed open again at the sound of car wheels screeching away. Alan looked up in confusion.

And three, two, one…Virgil stormed back into 'Two, face a thundercloud. As soon as Scott had explained to Gordon what he wanted to do, the aquanaut had known Virgil wouldn't be happy. And he was very correct. Muttering to himself, the artist paced towards Gordon's bed. He set about grabbing bandages before sitting furiously onto the bed. Clutching at Gordon's arm he began to bandage his wrists. Gordon pulled back. "I'd prefer not to look like a mummy today…"

"Too bad." Virgil snapped, "I'm going to wrap it real tight too."

He proved his point. Gordon squirmed. "Ouch!"

"Serves you right for leaving."

"Aw come on Virg, don't be like that, I'm going to need to move my hands if I'm gonna co-pilot this thing."

"They'll heal by then."

"No, I meant now."

That got Virgil's attention. He looked up. "Why on earth would you co-pilot her now?"

"You don't want to miss out on all the action do you?" Gordon raised an eyebrow, surprised that Virgil was so passive in his anger at being left behind. He really needed a more devious streak. Of course as soon as Scott had told Gordon he'd be left behind, the aquanaut was already thinking of ways to sneak with him. Gordon was the one who started this, and there was no _way_ he wasn't going to be there for the finish.

Virgil closed his eyes. "It's been five minutes Gordon Tracy and you're already suggesting mischief."

"Oh come on, it's been at least ten."

"New record," Alan muttered, watching them both with intrigue.

"I'm not flying Two over there Gordon. I don't even know where they're heading."

Gordon wiggled his feet. "No but I do."

"No. We're not going. Think of the millions of things that could go wrong. People would see 'Two, the Hood would see 'Two, then he would associate us with her! That's not a good thing Gordon."

Gordon shook his head, trying to push himself up to get closer to Virgil. He promptly fell back down, limbs shaky. Damn, that was a strong pain killer. Alan watched in amusement at his brother. He knew a lost battle when he saw one. Gordon was losing two, one against Virgil, the other against the drug.

Virgil pushed a strand of hair off Gordon's forehead. "Gordon, I know you want to help as much as I do. But this time, maybe being left behind is a good thing. At least you two are safe. So I just need you to sleep ok? Maybe when you wake up, Dad will be back, who knows."

Gordon shook his head, but found he barely even had energy to speak. _Had Virgil sedated him?_ Hey, perhaps he had more of a devious streak in him after all…the aquanaut struggled for a few moments longer, before finally closing his eyes. With thought of Jeff and home, he slipped into a restless sleep.

ooooo

 **Note: Oops another longer one! I hope you are still enjoying, just a couple of chapters left on this one I think. Thank you very much for reading, it means a whole lot to me, and your feedback/follows/favorites are really appreciated!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Alan wasn't the only brother to inherit Jeff's love for speed. Scott sped around the streets, throwing John side to side with every corner he swerved around. Every time they stopped at a red light or a car was going too slow Scott would mutter beneath his breath. The pilot would never honk at them, Scott was too polite for that, but as his fingers dug deeper into the steering wheel John knew his nerves were skyrocketing.

"We can't help anyone if we die on the way there," John said pointedly. He attempted to straighten his hair but was promptly jolted to the side again with another swerve. If he was honest, the speed was helping him. It didn't give him enough time to think over the situation or what could go wrong.

Scott clutched the wheel tighter. "We can't help anyone if we don't get there on time _either._ "

That was also true. John rolled his eyes. "Just…stay below the speed limit please. This isn't 'One."

Scott breathed out slowly, but eased his foot off the pedal. "You're right. Sorry."

"Hmm." The loud street noise of New York faded away as they hit more of the back roads, and soon the hum of the rental car filled the silence. John remained still, though every part of him wanted to fidget nervously. "So what's the plan?"

"I told you. We go in, we talk to him, the GD get his signal, we follow him back to where he's keeping Dad. Simple."

" _Not_ simple and _not_ a plan." John corrected flatly. John did not do reckless, nor did he do spontaneous, he was a lot like Jeff in that regard. Planning was important to the astronaut and not having a plan scared him.

"Yeah well this time we can't just plan out every detail John! There's no extensive mapping or pedantic security checks. There's no damn _time!_ " Scott growled, swinging the wheel around as the GPS barked out a direction for them to follow.

John kept his eyes on the road, "Alright."

Scott sighed, shoulders tense. "Ah, sorry I didn't mean to - look I'm just really riled up about all of this."

Shooting his elder brother a look, John kept his tone level. "We all are."

"Yeah I know…but you didn't see Gordy. Mallory was about to kill him when I got there. Well, that's what it looked like. I was _so_ ready to kill Mal, every fiber in me wanted to shoot him for doing that to our brother…and Dad!" Scott's hand slammed down on the wheel. "Dammit I never should have let Gordon leave! He was telling me about how he saw the wreckage of Dad's plane, and scoped the crash site…that's not something he should have done alone."

"No, it wasn't. But he did it." John said softly, reaching a hand toward his brother's shoulder. Scott flinched under his touch. "I need you to do something for me ok?"

"What?"

"Stop thinking about Gordon and Alan, even Virg. They are safe. Now it's just _us_ and we need to focus if this is going to work. If you get angry, if you try to attack the Hood, then it's all going to slip. I need you to be calm Scott…can you do that?" The pilot gave a brisk nod. John removed his hand. "Good."

Scott's eyes flickered towards him, almost amused. "Can you?"

John smiled. "I am an angel, dear brother. I never get mad."

"Oh how I wish that were true…"

"Come on, I'm not that bad."

"You're worse than all of us….combined."

"I object to that exaggeration."

John wasn't renowned for explosive temper like Alan or Scott, nor for holding a grudge like Virgil. He was more like Gordon, but instead of mischievous; he became a little malicious in his anger. Anger was something that he let brew for a long time and then just left it to simmer. John was the _best_ at the silent treatment, and certainly the scariest to face when he was in a mood. It just didn't happen that often which was lucky. John smiled. It wasn't exactly his best trait, but even Scott knew to avoid him when someone made him frustrated. "Perhaps the Hood should watch out."

Scott just shook his head fondly and swung them around another bend. The GPS lit up, stating they were almost at their destination. John rubbed his hands together. Right, here they go. Everything would be fine. Hopefully. Who was he kidding, this was a stupid decision. But when you lacked time, stupid decisions were the byproduct. So John let himself be stupid, and said nothing as Scott continued to drive.

They began to shoot down a long and narrow road, guarded by trees on both sides. A wonky sign was the only indication that it led anywhere. Dust flew up as they hit the un-pathed dirt route. It was eerie, and dark, and just the sort of place the Hood would pick. _Great._ They were early by just half an hour, something Scott had been determined to achieve so that they would have the 'upper hand'. John didn't think they would have a 'hand' in the situation at all. It was too unpredictable for his liking.

Scott turned into a large gravel area and pulled the car to a stop. A gaunt shell of a warehouse loomed before them. The windows were mostly broken, graffiti was plastered across the brick outer layer, and there was no sign of life anywhere near the building. "Just a little creepy," John muttered.

Scott rolled his eyes. He lifted his watch to his mouth and quietly spoke into it. "Colonel Casey we've arrived, are the agents in place?"

The strong voice of the head of Global Defense force answered quickly. She sounded more than a little annoyed at having been dragged into this. Considering she was one of the people that thought the Hood was just a 'phantom', she no doubt expected this to be a huge waste of time. But you couldn't exactly deny the head of International Rescue. " _Yes Scott. We've placed them on the border of the forest, far enough away not to be detected. They are linked into the com so should be listening to everything that you say. Our satellite is locked onto your position as well, and should be good to detect any vehicles that enter the area. If there's no movement within the hour, I'll be pulling them –and you, out."_

 _"_ Understood..." Scott paused, balancing a thought on his tongue. He obviously decided to ignore it. "Thanks for giving this a chance."

 _"_ _Alright. Be careful in there boys, if the Hood is truly behind this, I wouldn't put a foot out of line."_ The indifferent way she said it made it clear that the Colonel suspected they would find nothing. She wasn't a tad worried, not even about her own agents, and that said a lot. _Surely now that they had Mallory and June it was proof enough that the Hood existed?_ But there was no time to dwell on that now.

Scott confirmed a few more details with her before ending the call. He looked at John. "You ready?"

"To enter this derelict building and face an elusive criminal that will probably want to kill us, if not that, then take us away? Sure. It will be just like old times."

Scott chuckled and patted him on the shoulder, "my thoughts exactly. But hey, I brought this just in case." Scott drew up his shirt where a small pistol was concealed.

John's eyes widened. Scott _hated_ firearms, ever since his days in the air force. John hated them too; it had been drilled into them by Jeff that they weren't necessary. "What the – _Scott?_ Where the hell did you get that? Why- why do you have it?"

Scott hid it again. "I had to get Gordon, didn't I? Perhaps it will come in handy again."

"Come in handy? I thought you said we were just going to talk to him?"

"Well…that's all I want to do, I can't exactly speak for _him_. Look, it's just back up ok. The agents will be on-" "

"Yeah, yeah I get it. Just please don't accidentally shoot me."

"Accidentally? John, what do you take me for?"

"Remember the dart guns we used to have? I'm pretty sure I still have that bruise."

Scott smiled, a memory stirring. "That was just _one_ time…" The smile faded from his face as the pilot looked down at his watch. John watched as indecision grew in those blue eyes. He sighed. "Just call him."

"Who?"

"Virgil."

"How did -…I'll be quick, I promise."

John nodded. He had felt guilty about leaving Virgil behind, especially since he was the one that was usually by Scott's side. But it felt right for the two eldest to be doing this together. There was no way that either of them would want to put their younger siblings in harm's way, but they would both risk their own lives to get Jeff back. Even though John did have limited experience on the field he had to go through the same training as his brothers', so had a little knowledge of hand to hand combat. Not that he thought it would come to that…Then again, Scott _had_ brought a gun. John had brought a little something of his own too, just in case.

Scott cleared his throat and dialed their middle brother. "Hey Virg, we just arrived. All we have to do is wait now."

Virgil sounded tired. " _Yeah, so do we._ "

"Right. Is Gordon ok?"

" _He's asleep._ _The kid is exhausted man, I'm a little worried…but I'll keep an eye on him. He tried to make me fly 'Two and follow you. That would have been real subtle on our part._ "

Scott smiled a strained smile. "Yeah, that's not one of his more genius ideas. Listen Virg, I need you to promise me that you won't come out here. Even if something happens I want you to stay put, or go back home, ok?"

John looked up at this. His confusion was echoed in Virgil's words. " _Happens? What do you think is going to happen? Scott?"_

Their eldest brother sighed. "I don't know Virg, hopefully nothing. But just in case, get the others home safe, ok?"

Virgil's words were strong. " _Ok…but then I'll come after you. There's no way you're gonna change that. Everything will be ok, I feel good about this. Just bring Dad back with you, alright?"_

"Alright." Scott smiled at him, sharing a look that said more than any words could. Before he could switch off, Virgil said more.

" _Uh Scott, is there any chance that you…do you think you could keep the coms open?_ "

Scott glanced at John, eyebrows furrowed. "I don't think that's a good idea…"

 _"_ _Oh come on man! You can't shut me out completely."_

"But –" Scott narrowed his eyes in thought. John cleared his throat to get his attention. When his brother looked up, the astronaut gave a small nod. There was no point in trying to hide things from Virgil. "Alright…" Scott bit his lip. "But you can only listen, no visuals. We can't have it open on our end either or the Hood will suspect something…you know…voices coming out of a watch isn't exactly the best idea."

John nodded again at this. Brains had recently upgraded their watches so that they wouldn't flash either, which made it much more subtle to use when in public. Virgil could receive the audio into 'Two, but wouldn't be able to see either of their holograms, just as they wouldn't be able to see his. Scott was right; it probably was a bad idea. Virgil would get frustrated at not being able to do or say anything, but it was less frustrating then just waiting around. John learnt the benefits of listening to situations from up in 'Five.

 _"_ _Thanks Scott,"_ Virgil said softly. " _Tune me back in if – when he arrives."_

"Alright buddy, see you on the flip side," Scott switched off the coms and raised an eyebrow at John. "Astronauts first?" he asked, gesturing at the door.

John rolled his eyes and pushed his door open. This was certainly not one of his best decisions.

ooooo

Scott's heart was in his throat when the sound of the plane arrived. It was low at first, a faint and distant hum that could have been anything. But as it got louder and closer, the truth began to sink in. This was really happening. He just hoped that he and John would be enough to catch the Hood's interest. No doubt the Hood would scan the building and find two people inside. Thinking they were Mallory and Gordon, he would probably enter, or at least send someone else in. But from there it was unpredictable.

Scott had been telling himself over and over that it would work out. The agents were outside, they weren't going in blind, he would remain _calm._ Virgil said he had a good feeling about this. That was a good sign. He was the more intuitive after all. But something didn't feel right, it all felt too casual for the Hood to simply show up after one phone call with Mallory…

John shifted slightly as the sound of the engine flew overhead. Scott knew it was killing him to be there, and he felt more than guilty for putting him in this situation. But there was no way the eldest would be able to face the man who caused his father's crash, and held so much contempt for international rescue, without losing his cool. But with John by his side, his calm and tranquil brother, he might just work as a counterbalance.

The inside of the warehouse was as decrepit as its exterior. Paint was peeling, the floorboards were torn, and beams from the roof were rotting away. Even the skeleton of the building was falling apart. Gaps in the roof went dark as the plane flew overhead. Scott took a step closer to John, but froze as the plane kept moving.

 _No._ Panic flittered through Scott. He couldn't _leave._ If he left they wouldn't have time to track him, or get the jets on his trail, and Jeff would be gone, possibly for good…the noise circled back around. Ah, he was doing a flyby. No doubt checking for any hints of ambush. He must not have spotted anything out of the ordinary and bought the plane round to land.

Scott clenched his fists tightly, digging his nails into his palms. This was it.

Noise dropped as the engines were cut. This silence was heavy, thick; it hung in the air and seeped from the ground. There were no voices to be heard, or whisper of the wind through the walls, or distant sounds of the city. Just the occasional trickle of dirt falling from the roof, cascading gently to the floor. John was watching the door intently, entire body still and poised. At last minute Scott remembered to cue Virgil in, opening the one-way audio channel through his watch.

Footsteps echoed outside. Scott braced himself, hand hovering where his gun was hidden. There was a brief pause before the door was opened with a large flourish. Scott barely had time to prepare himself as four figures sauntered into the room. Three of the men were masked in headgear that made them look like creatures out of _Star Wars._ They wore large black helmets with a white strip down the middle. This threw Scott, so much so that he barely noticed the fourth man, even though he deserved all of his attention.

"Hello boys," the Hood stepped forward slowly, not the slightest bit surprised to see either of them. Scott felt his senses heighten. Ok, he certainly should have been surprised…The man wore a dark, freshly pressed suit, for some reason having to look good for the occasion. His head was entirely bald and his eyebrows arched dramatically. Scott had seen transmissions of him before of course, but up close…it was the eyes that really got him. A strange amber colour, that almost glowed as he stepped in and out of the shadows. "How are we both?"

As the Hood slowly strutted towards them, Scott instinctively put himself in front of John. He hadn't meant to, it was just habit from all those years at school when the bookworm hadn't been able to fend for himself. Now John could most certainly fend for himself, and he made that clear by being the first to speak. "Certainly been better. I would ask how you are but I don't really care."

"Charming John," the Hood's strong British accent reverberated around the room when he spoke. Scott shivered as the man said his brother's name.

"We believe you were expecting someone else?"

John too was thrown by the fact the criminal hadn't been surprised to see them. The Hood smiled, a cruel and malicious smile, and screwed up his nose. "Yes I was, but I _much_ prefer what I have now. First and second sons are far more important than fourth, don't you think?"

Scott clenched his fists tighter, holding back a sharp retort. _No they bloody well weren't._ The three henchmen hovered behind the Hood, hands behind their backs. They weren't obviously armed but Scott knew that they would be. The eldest Tracy took a step toward the man, holding his steely gaze. Despite the fury coursing through him at what had happened to Gordon, and the idea that it might have been him in this situation, Scott remained calm. "What were you planning on doing to him?"

The Hood tilted his head, a false look of innocence crossing his face. "Why the same thing as you of course – a little _family_ reunion." Scott felt his breath falter. _No, stay calm._ He could be lying. He was probably most definitely _lying._ But Gordon had said he _had_ heard him…"My question to you is," the Hood continued in that nasally voice. "Why would two very sensible young men come to meet _me_ , unarmed, alone, and without any sort of plan of attack?"

Scott and John remained silent. _Would the GD have caught his signal by now? Were they listening in, did they have proof he was real? How long would they have to stall?_

"We believe you have something of ours." John said softly, barely holding onto the Hood's gaze. One of the henchmen laughed. Scott stiffened.

The Hood held up a hand to silence him. "Oh?"

"Our father." John said bluntly. The astronaut still lingered behind Scott, unable to step forward. "You were behind his crash; we know that for sure now."

"Do you?" Something glinted in the Hood's eyes. A smile curled onto his lips, one that said he knew more than they ever would. Scott shivered involuntarily. "How exciting. So did you come here to get him back? Are the two of you going to force me to lead you to him? How delightful."

Scott growled, a low, fierce growl. "Do you have him or not? There are ways we will get him back, with or without your compliance. You threatened my family, my brother, and now there won't be a corner on earth that you can slink away to."

This time, all the henchmen laughed. The Hood didn't stop them. Instead he joined in, somewhat manically. "Wonderful Scott, truly wonderful. I applaud your bravery. No wonder your father chose you to pilot Thunderbird One."

For a moment, Scott thought he misheard. But John shrunk back, yearning for his shadows, and Scott realised he had not.

Once, back in Kansas, Scott had been tree climbing with his brothers'. They were young, stupid, feeling like nothing in the world could possibly hurt them. Little John had climbed only a few branches up, white-blonde hair dancing in the wind as he looked down at them, already terrified. _"I can't do it!"_ he had cried, in that high voice he didn't lose until he turned fourteen. Virgil had climbed to meet him, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulder.

 _"_ _You're such a wimp Johnny!"_ Gordon chortled, taking of his shoes. With the ease of a squirrel he had shot up the branches, followed eagerly by the most competitive of them all, Alan. He had scurried upward, doing everything that Gordon could, even avoiding the occasional pinecone he threw at him.

Scott eventually meandered after them, acting like it was no big deal at all. He made it to where Gordon and Alan sat arguing about who would fall first if the branch broke. Wanting to go one further then his brothers (after all he _was_ the eldest and had to prove himself) he climbed onto the thin branch above them. Scott hadn't even realised it had broken until he was lying on the ground. It was as if the impact had knocked every wisp of air from his lungs, and he lay there struggling to inhale, exhale, to do anything.

That was how he felt now.

Trying to remember how to breathe, unable to speak, stunned as the words bounced around his skull. _Thunderbird One._ He couldn't know, he just couldn't. At last minute, Scott remembered shock silence would only confirm the Hood's words. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, trying his best to sound confused.

This only sparked more laughter. The Hood entwined his fingers together, walking even closer to where Scott and John stood, "And John – what are you doing back on earth? Surely International Rescue need you in your rightful position."

John blinked at him, unable to form words. As the Hood attempted to get nearer the second eldest, Scott stuck a hand out. "Why are you talking about International Rescue? We don't care about them. We just want to know about our father."

The Hood sighed pityingly. "Dear boy, there's really no point in denying it, not when your father has confirmed everything for me-"

Scott shook his head wildly. _No, no, no, no…_ He did have Jeff. He'd had him all along. Scott had been trying to convince himself that he was dead; surely it was a better fate than being left in the hands of a psychopath. But that had _happened._ "You're lying!"

"Lying? Why on earth would I lie about that? Your father has been very helpful, but not as helpful as I want him to be…that's why I needed Gordon; he would have been good persuasion. But you two will do much better. I'm sure Jeff won't like seeing his eldest boys in pain. I mean sure, Gordon would have been ok, but he's expendable isn't he? Your father will-"

Something snapped in Scott. Before he could even think, he had pulled the gun from his waist and pointed it toward the Hood. Anger radiated off him in waves. Gordon was _not_ expendable, none of them were. And Jeff would _never_ say anything about International Rescue, it wasn't possible, he _had_ to be lying. _But how else had he found out?_ "Shut up! Where is he? Where have you been keeping him?"

The Hood tutted sadly on seeing the gun. There was no fear in that gaze, just a flicker of annoyance. With a simple wave of his hand the henchmen leapt forward and Scott realised he had made a mistake. One of them went for John, while the others turned towards him. They now all brandished weapons, but Scott knew they wouldn't kill them. Not if the Hood meant what he said. Scott however, _would_ , if he had to. He fired at one of the Henchmen's legs, missing by an inch. In a split second his gun was knocked from his hand by the other. It fell to the ground.

So Scott ducked to the floor. He slid across the ground to kick one of the man's feet out from under him. The man rolled away, only just managing to keep a hold of his gun.

With a growl, the masked man swung at Scott with his weapon. Scott threw himself backwards. The gun clipped the side of his head, narrowly missing his temple. Scott cursed. Thrusting himself forward he threw out a hand to try and knock the gun aside. Instead his hand collided harshly with the cold metal. His opponent held fast to his weapon, managing to grab Scott's arm and twist it around. The man stood up; looming over him he rammed his knee into Scott's back. Crying out at the sudden jolt of pain Scott yanked his arm out of the man's grasp.

Turning over he kicked his own legs out at the man's chest, propelling backwards. He tried to reach for his own weapon, but it was out of range. The man managed to maintain his footing. Without hesitation he stamped down on Scott's shin, twisting his heavy boot to keep Scott in place. Scott hesitated before thrusting a fist towards the man's ribs. With ease his opponent grasped his wrist, striking him across the side of the head with the weapon in his other hand.

Scott was blinded as pain rocketed through his skull. He blinked and only saw black dots smudged before his eyes. Struggling wildly, he felt the man step harder on his leg. Soon the kiss of a gun was on his forehead. He closed his eyes.

There was no shot, only clapping. Scott opened his eyes. Though his head was pounding, his vision began to clear. His opponent still stood on his shin; gun pointed in his general direction. John was also on the ground, panting heavily the astronaut shot Scott a fiery look. _I told you to remain calm._ Scott looked away. How could he?

The Hood applauded the situation, before shooting them both a patronizing smile. "Well done, very gallant. Daddy would be proud. Now I just want to…" the Hood reached towards Scott's wrist, violently tearing the watch from it. Scott held in an outraged cry. "Just in case…" the man muttered, before throwing the watch to the ground and crushing it with his foot. Nothing happened. Scott almost smiled, _thanks Brains._ But then the Hood took one of the guns, shooting the watch. Pieces exploded everywhere. In turn he did the same to John's.

Scott hissed as it happened. _Sorry Virg._ Now the Defense force was cut off too. But the agents should have heard the commotion; they should have heard the statements the Hood had made. So where were they? They said they would interfere at signs of trouble. Surely the GD would have locked onto the planes signal by now…

"Now, are you going to be good boys and come with me willingly, or will we have to drag you?"

"You're not taking us anywhere!" Scott spat, struggling to removed his leg. "You will _tell_ us where our father is-"

"You're in no position to make demands," the Hood said casually.

"Neither are you," Scott muttered, he hoped cryptically.

But it was not to be. The Hood smiled another one of his sickly smiles. "Do you really think that I only had two informants at Tracy Industries? Could you possibly think me so stupid that I would walk in here, knowing fully well that Mallory had been taken in by the authorities? Please, give me more credit young Tracy. I thought you of all people would know that you can't trust employees."

Scott bristled, feeling as though his blood was on fire. _No_ , damnit _no!_ He felt ashamed; he barely even knew half of the employees at Tracy industries. How was he possibly supposed to keep track of their loyalty? Their trustworthiness? Jeff had done it. Scott couldn't, just like a million other things. Like keeping his family together, like protecting them, like keeping IR gong…now he had walked John right into a trap. _But what had happened to the agents?_

As though reading his thoughts, the Hood answered. "Oh and why do you constantly try to rely on the Global Defense force? They are so easy to dispatch, really I'm embarrassed for you. Now John, if you were up in Thunderbird Five, this would have been a different story. I'm sure you could have tracked my signal from here but – ah well, at least you tried."

Scott shook his head, violently trying to get free. "You bastard! What have we ever done to you? IR is helping save this world-"

"Hmm, but there are better things you can do with that technology. I _want_ that technology. Now that you have walked straight into my hands – quite literally – then I think I will _get_ that technology. Jeff will be none too pleased to see you, I'm sure. Or perhaps you can just tell me yourselves? If all fails, I suppose there are always the younger brothers too-"

"No!" Despite the gun, Scott managed to propel himself upright. With a push, the henchman stumbled backwards. Scott lunged at the Hood, but was quickly held back by the other loyal storm trooper. He grasped his struggling form tightly. "You will not touch them; I swear I will tear you apart for doing this to my family, if you so much as _look_ at one of them I'll-"

The Hood rolled his eyes, turning to John like an old friend. The henchman holding him had forced him into upright position, arms pinned behind his back. "He's a bit over protective isn't he?" the Hood drawled, placing a hand on the side of John's face.

John hissed something at him. The Hood responded by hitting him in the jaw. Scott yelped, struggling even harder against his captors grasp. John's head turned sharply, but he didn't make a noise, simply sent a death stare at the criminal. "Now, I'll ask you again," the Hood said, almost cheerfully. "Will you come compliantly with me to see Jeff, or shall I force you?"

Scott and John shared a glance. _Damn it, damn it, damn it._ The Hood had destroyed their tracking signals when he crushed the watches. Desperately Scott prayed that the Defense force had managed to lock onto the signal before coms had been destroyed. Yet the Hood seemed so confident, so reassured, that it didn't seem likely. But…Scott paused at the look in John's eye.

Ah, so there was a glimmer of hope.

Scott didn't know what it was, but the second eldest was smiling. It wasn't a noticeable smile, that would have given something away, but Scott could see it in his eyes.

Scott hated not knowing. He also hated not being in control. But this was an exercise of his trust. He just had to stick to the plan and let the Hood lead the way to his own demise. Scott had faith in John, and he had to prove that to him. "Alright," Scott finally nodded. "Lead the way."

The Hood smiled as though everything was going the way he wanted. _Just you wait_ , Scott thought, hoping like hell that his brother would pull through.

ooooo

Virgil glared at the dashboard in Thunderbird Two. He had never glared at his baby as hard as he did now, specifically where his brothers' voices were supposed to be emanating from. Now nothing rose from the speaker. The audio had cut flat with a shot, and then it had just beeped, like a heart stopping on a monitor. Virgil's heart certainly felt like it stopped.

Alan sat in the co-pilot chair, face pale, eyes wide, looking to Virgil for some sort of explanation. But Virgil had none to give. Even if he did have one, he didn't feel like talking, or comforting, or _anything._ He felt helpless and stupid and naïve. Helpless for being left behind, stupid for thinking that this would work, and naïve for believing that International Rescue had nothing to do with their father's disappearance. But it _had_ , and now the Hood knew everything. Worse than that, he had pried it from their father. A man who would give _everything_ to keep the secret safe, to keep his sons safe.

Part of Virgil didn't believe Jeff would tell the Hood anything. But obviously he had. Trembling, Virgil buried his head in his hands. The transmission had cut out after the Hood had revealed his knowledge, and then what sounded like a fight had broken out. There was no way that both Scott and John's watches were accidentally broken. The Hood knew what they were, and what they were there for.

Movement caught Virgil's eye. He looked up from his hands to find Gordon, completely upright and focused, heading towards the control panel. "What are you both sitting around for?" the aquanaut asked, a slight slur in his words. "This is kind of an emergency, and in an emergency you need to be quick. Get that Al, quick, that's your favourite thing to be." He began stabbing commands into the coms.

"Gordon-" Virgil heard his voice crack. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "What are you doing-?"

" _Colonel Casey speaking._ "

Virgil blinked at his brother. Wait, _he_ was supposed to be in charge. Not the kid that had just been tied in a basement for two days. Yet here he was, snapping them back into action.

"Hi Colonel it's me, Gordon. Well it's _us_ , the other brothers. You know. Um…we've had a slight problem; I'm not sure if you've noticed that-"

 _"_ _Coms are down on your brothers? Oh we've noticed. We're doing what we can to get them back"_

"Oh good," Gordon's false cheer dripped through his words. In a second his mannerism changed, "Well would you like to inform us of _what the hell happened?_ "

" _We don't know."_

"You don't- what do you mean you don't _know_?" Virgil's confusion was echoed in Gordon's fiery words. "You said you had agents posted around the site!"

" _Yes well, we seem to have lost contact with them also-"_

"Lost _contact_? Lost-" Gordon raised a finger up to his lips as though he was trying to stop himself from yelling at the Colonel. Virgil quickly got to his feet and gently moved his brother out of the way.

Virgil cleared his throat, knowing that angry words would get them nowhere in this situation. As much as he was a little – ok a _lot_ – stressed about Scott and John, he was sure the Global Defense force had everything under control. "But you heard what he said right? About IR and Dad?"

The Colonel sounded relieved at having to deal with Virgil. His brothers _were_ always saying he should be the one in charge of public relations. " _Yes we did Virgil, if that's true-"_

"What do you mean if that's true? He bloody said it!" Gordon snapped, trying to get closer to the coms. Virgil held an arm out to keep him at bay. Alan was just staring at them both, chewing on his lip.

 _"_ _\- It may have been just a device to try and shock or lure your brothers. Or perhaps make them tell him more about International Rescue with the promise of seeing your father."_

"Well you caught onto the plane's signal right?" Virgil asked calmly, though really he wanted to break something. "It's fine, the plan will still work. Once they fly away we'll just trace them."

There was a momentary silence as the Colonel thought on her words. _"Well, actually…_ "

"No." Gordon's hands rose up. "No, no, no, _no,_ do _not_ say that you didn't get that signal."

Virgil was thinking the exact same thing.

 _"_ _The Hood appears to have quite sophisticated technology. We have our best team on it, but he's pretty heavily shielded from outside forces…we'll keep working on it, but without contact to our agents this is going to be difficult to salvage._ "

Difficult to _salvage?_ What was this? A plane wreckage? Was she deeming this situation a lost cause already? _No._ Virgil's palm slammed heavily onto the dashboard, making Alan jump. "Well _what_ do we do _now?_ " he asked, less politely.

" _You'll just have to wait. We will keep you updated on the situation-"_

"How can you keep us updated when you don't _know_ anything?" Gordon growled, running both hands desperately through his hair. He hoped he was still dreaming. It didn't feel real, so maybe he was. Maybe he'd wake up to the sound of the klaxon and his father barking at him to get up. That would be nice.

 _"_ _Look, we are doing our best here. We're sending more agents now directly to their position, hopefully they will still be there. Look boys, I've got another call – I'll keep you posted."_ She switched off before they could utter any more.

"Hopefully they'll still _be there?_ " Gordon muttered incredulously. _"Hopefully?_ What…how…? Wow. What a surprise the Global Defense force have once again, _failed_ us. Wonderful. Even when the Hood directly admits to having Dad they still don't believe it."

Virgil glanced at Gordon. His brother looked like a shell of himself, drained and exhausted. Bruises hovered on his jaw and cheek, but there was nothing hollow about his eyes. His eyes – their mother's eyes – were alight with flames, shimmering with anger that could barely be contained. They were eyes which were supposed to hold laughter and light, but not now. Virgil wondered what part he'd played in that change. "They might be right Gordon," Virgil said softly. "It might have all been a set-up."

"Not you too Virg! I _told_ you I heard _him,_ " Gordon was getting too worked up, hands shaking from exhaustion and frustration.

"Alright, I know." Virgil clasped his brother's wrists gently to make him stop moving. Gordon hissed at the touch on where the ropes had been. "You should be sleeping bud, not getting all riled up. I'll wake you if there are any updates-"

"Pah!" Gordon pulled away. "Any updates my _ass_ ; they aren't going to find anything when they get there. The Hood will have Scott and John and fly away and _nobody_ has got the signal, so we won't just lose Dad, we'll lose _all of them._ Yippee, International Rescue at its true finest. Now the B team is left behind while the A team is stuck with a psychopath."

"Who you calling B team?" Virgil muttered, before realizing that was _not_ the point. "And hey we don't know what's going to happen to them. The GD are sending agents there right now. They'll make it in time, they have to."

"Sure, just like they _had_ to catch hold of the signal. Nope, we're gonna lose all of them Virg, gone, just like that. Right into the Hood's arms…because of _me_ …I s-sent them in there, it s-should have been _me._ " This realization seemed to only just occur to Gordon, his eyes widening at the thought.

Before the thought took him down the line of hysterics, Virgil stepped in. "Gordon," he moved towards him and placed heavy hands on his shoulders. " _Stop_. This was not you. You're overreacting and it's freaking me out-"

"But Virg, It was _supposed_ to be me! It would have been _better_ if it was me-" his voice cracked.

Virgil cursed inwardly. How long had Gordon been thinking like this? Was this what had set everything off? He needed to draw Gordon back in from the recess of his thoughts, and Virgil could only think of one thing. "You know that's not true. Hey, Gordo look at me, you're also freaking Alan out, so stop it."

At the sound of Alan's name, Gordon turned to face their younger brother. Alan was still just watching them, suspiciously silent. Alan was often only silent when he was truly shaken. Whether by news of the possibility of their father being alive, or that his brothers might be in danger, Virgil didn't really know. Virgil himself didn't have time to process this information.

"Sorry," Gordon whispered, rubbing his tired eyes. "I'm just…this is insane. Especially hearing Dad. I know it was him guys, the Hood's telling the truth."

"Then Scott and John will go with the Hood, won't they?" Alan asked quietly. The youngest would never question Gordon on what he heard; it was a raw trust and understanding that bonded the two of them. "If he says he'd take them to Dad?"

"Yeah…" Virgil muttered. "The idiots would do that. Well, Scott would, but I doubt they'd have a choice in the matter."

Alan shuddered, head turning away from them. Gordon folded his arms across his chest. "So what now? We really do wait? I'm not very good at that."

"No," Virgil said slowly. "You're not. I'm…I'm going to take you two home. Grandma will be freaking out. She's desperate to see you Gordon. Plus you need rest, lots of it. Al, you can fly One back."

"Nope." The rather firm reply from the youngest came as a surprise to both his older brothers.

"Excuse me?"

"That is a negative Virgil; you're not sending me home."

Gordon smiled a tired smile at Alan. As much as he wanted to go home, he wasn't leaving now. Alan had the right idea and there was _no_ way he was being shown up by his younger brother. "Me either, sorry Virg. You're stuck with us."

"But I promised Scott-"

"Scott's not here. You're in charge."

Virgil grimaced. He just decided he didn't like being in charge. "…No. No I don't want either of you here."

"Well that's just plain rude," Gordon's comment made Alan smile. In turn that made Virgil grin. It felt foreign to be smiling in such a tense situation, but still, Gordon was magic like that. He was similar to Jeff in that way, if Jeff laughed then they were all laughing. Gordon was the only one that had inherited that gift. His happiness was contagious, and that's what they all loved about him.

Thinking of Jeff, and of Gordon's happiness, Virgil finally nodded. "Ok, you can stay. But if Scott asks, you threatened to hijack Two if I tried to make you go."

Gordon nodded, sliding down into the passenger seat. "I was actually thinking of doing that. I am best at piloting her after all."

"Ha, don't start. It's bad enough you labeled _me_ part of the 'B' team."

"Alright Mr. Modesty, it's just Al and I then."

Alan shook his head. "Nah-uh Gords, you should have seen me fly One. Anyone who can fly One is automatically an A team guy."

"Alright, alright," Gordon threw out his arms in surrender. He tried to hide a wince at the strain on his shoulders. " _I'm_ the B team. Ok?"

Alan chuckled. "Ok."

"Hey Al, could you give Grandma a ring?" Virgil asked, suddenly realizing that they had simply left her hanging back at base. They had told her about getting Gordon back, and a little about the Hood, but other than that she was in the dark. The artist just hoped that a rescue call wouldn't come in any time soon. That would be _really_ inconvenient.

Alan grumbled. "Why can't you do it? You are her favourite after all."

Virgil rolled his eyes. Ever since she gave him that compass it was all they ever moaned about… "Please Alan."

" _Fine._ " Alan stumbled out of his seat and moved toward the back of 'Two. Virgil knew he was secretly relieved to talk to their Grandmother. Her words were sometimes all they needed to clear something up.

Gordon was rotating slowly in his chair, lightly humming a tune as silence fell between them. But Virgil knew humming meant thoughts, and his younger brother had obviously been spending _far_ too much time thinking lately. It wasn't good for him. "Hey," Virgil stopped the rotating, placing a hand on his brothers knee. "You're not B-team."

"Nah, I'm C-team. Gettit. _Sea._ "

Virgil chuckled. Gordon wouldn't look at him; he just stared up at the ceiling, eyes still burning. But there was a flicker of a smile on his lips at Virgil's laughter. "Yeah well, because none of us can drive 'Four like you can, I think we all get demoted."

"What one were you?"

"I crashed her into a sea cave. Oh and I almost hit a shark. _Almost_."

Gordon whistled, only half paying attention to the conversation. Virgil didn't blame him. Scott and John were still taking up the majority of his thoughts, but if there was nothing they could do… "You better not have dented her."

"Don't worry; I fixed her up for when… _if_ …you came home."

"I was always coming home," Gordon said quietly. "I just thought it would be with Dad."

"Hey, you got us this far."

" _No_ , I led my brothers into a damn trap. Again, I try to help and everything just goes wrong. It's like you said before, maybe I should just stop helping people. Maybe I should just stop _everything_."

Virgil glared at Gordon. For some reason, this glare dragged his eyes from the roof. Gordon met his stare with a tentative look. Virgil wanted to shake his brother. To shake sense into that _stupid_ brain of his. "Goddamnit Gordo, you have _no_ idea how much you help people, every day!"

"Yeah, rescues, I do know Virgil-"

"Sure rescues, but not only that, I'm talking about _us!_ You have no idea how unbearable it's been without you. Scott's a wreck, Alan's mopey, I'm stuck in the middle of it all and I can't even _paint."_

"But-"

"No, _listen_ to me. I thought it was bad when Dad went missing, but losing _you?_ That was worse man. I remember the first night after Dad's crash; you kept saying that we'd lost the heart and soul of International Rescue, and how could we continue? You were partly right, Dad's the heart, but you're the damn soul of it all! I kept expecting to hear a stupid joke, or for you to walk in to the lounge wearing a hula skirt or something, and every time it didn't happen, I just felt _empty._ When things get bad, real bad, you remind us what it's like to be human, to laugh. You might think it's a little thing, but it's so important. The others might not be able to say it, but I will, we _need_ you."

Gordon was staring at him, eyes wide, taken aback by the sudden and emotional outburst. Virgil wasn't sure where it had come from; coming close to losing the aquanaut had sure put things in perspective. Now there was a chance he might lose Scott and John…well, there was no time like the present. But Virgil meant every word of it. On days when Virgil didn't want to get up in the morning, Gordon had always been there with a smile on his face. Even when Virgil yelled at him to leave him alone, Gordon wouldn't leave till his brother was laughing. Virgil just hadn't really appreciated it before.

Gordon slowly exhaled, the impact of Virgil's words slowly sinking in. He tried quickly to recover his unconcerned attitude. "Wow, I was expecting a few tears, but other than that a solid eight out of ten."

Virgil hit him on the arm. "Oh shut up. Did you get any of that huh?"

"Yeah I got it, I'm A-team, and you're all B. Makes more sense now."

"Dream on little bro, dream on."

Together they laughed, and Virgil felt the weight on his chest ease slightly. The sound of hurried footsteps reached them as Alan quickly ran back into the room, practically slipping on the floor of the cockpit. "Guys guys guys!"

"What what _what?_ " Gordon mocked Alan's tone, though the urgency in it had put them both on alert.

"The transmitter!" Alan gasped, eyes darting between his brothers wildly. "It's lighting up! Grandma said it just started beeping all of a sudden!"

"The…what transmitter?" Virgil got to his feet, heart pounding. "What are you talking about?"

"The edible transmitter!" Alan was too excited to stand still. What Virgil had mistaken for worry he now realised was enthusiasm. _The edible transmitter?_ Virgil tilted his head. Brains had fazed those out when they had got the updated watches with inbuilt trackers. He didn't even know they still had them.

Gordon's head shot up, a smile lighting up his face. "Let me guess…" he drawled. "John's?"

Alan nodded eagerly. "That's the one! Good old Johnny's old fashioned methods are finally good for something."

"Wait…what? John's? Why would he have one?" Virgil stuttered. Sure, John was a stickler for their old technology, and he loved safety, and planning…but John hadn't known they would come to New York today. That had been Virgil's idea. Unless…unless he had thought of it himself, or perhaps Virgil was just predictable. Virgil narrowed his eyes. Sometimes, that astronaut was a little too smart for his own good. But who was he to question his methods? "Scott's going to be angry he didn't think of that…" his heart dropped. "Wait…does Grandma say the transmitter is moving?"

Alan nodded, smile slowly fading. "Yeah…so the Hood must be taking them somewhere, right?"

"Right," Virgil shared a look with Gordon. The light in his eyes had returned, "To Dad."

"We have to go after them," The suggestion from the aquanaut surprised nobody.

Virgil countered him. "We _have_ to tell the Global Defense force."

Alan was on his closest brother's side. "Right. _Then_ we have to go after them."

"No." Virgil said firmly. He was desperate to go, right now, to throw caution to the wind and just race after his brother's. But there were things they had to think about, important things. "We can't just go in Two. We need a plan, we don't know where they're going, and we don't know the risks. I'm certainly not taking you two-"

"Alan," Gordon questioned, pretending as though Virgil wasn't there at all. "We still have those tranquilizer guns in 'Two's hold, don't we?"

"Why yes Gordon I think we do."

"And Grandma's got the co-ordinates, hasn't she?"

"Yes she does, she said she'd call back when they stop moving."

"And we're _positive_ it's John?"

"Pretty positive yeah. Don't know who else would have one."

"You know how to co-pilot 'Two, don't cha?"

"Absolutely, or we could take 'One, she's faster."

"True…"

"Nope, stop it, both of you," Virgil wanted to agree so badly. But what would Scott say? What would _Dad_ say? Would he even care if they were so close to getting him back? And if they flew one of the 'birds, wouldn't they be delivering directly into the Hood's hands? They couldn't possibly do that. "I'm calling the defense force and then I'm taking you home. End of."

"Alan, do you think there are any ropes around here?"

"I'm sure there are."

"Maybe some tape to keep him quiet?"

"Yeah, Virg loves his duct-tape maintenance."

"Ok sweet, you wanna hijack 'Two with me?"

Virgil glared at them both. Ok, they were doing that _thing_ again, that 'terrible two' thing where they pretended like they were joking but were actually being pretty serious. At first it was cute, then it was annoying, now it was just plain scary. Virgil didn't doubt the fact he would possibly be tied down in his _own_ plane. "A kid and an unstable hostage victim take on the Hood? Great."

"I'm not a kid," Alan protested.

"Wanna make it a kid, an unstable hostage victim, and a sensitive artist?"

Virgil rolled his eyes. To hell with this. To hell with being left behind. His brothers needed him, his father needed him, and so Virgil was already half-way there in his mind. Sure, he'd cue in the Global Defense force; they could get them back-up. It would probably arrive half an hour late, but at least he could say that he tried. "Alright then Al, get Grandma back on the phone."

"FAB," Alan said, with a lot more pride than he'd said it with in a long time.

Gordon, smiling brightly, leapt into the co-pilot chair. He may look like he'd been underground for months, or that he hadn't slept in years, but a determined smile changed everything. It brightened his very surroundings. With the sound of 'Two's thrusters, Virgil found himself smiling too.

ooooo

 **Note: Oh dear, sorry for the long installment again, I get a bit carried away! Lovely, lovely couple of reviews so thank you so much! Also, I know edible transmitters haven't been a thing in the TAG series but again, I'm kind of merging with original series. Really hope you're still enjoying, thank you for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

The blow came hard and fast from one of the henchmen.

He struck Scott across the jaw with more force than the last. Scott's head snapped to the side, his body threatening to fall onto the cold ground. Scott forced his himself to remain upright. He wasn't tied down but the gun pointed at his brother's head was pretty damn good motivation not to try anything.

John didn't flinch, he didn't cry out; with every hit that Scott took the astronaut forced himself to remain neutral. If the Hood saw that this was affecting him in anyway – because it _was_ affecting him – then it would just give him more reason to do it. He was also on his knees, gun pressed to his temple, and there wasn't much he could do about that. So every time Scott looked at him John would just nod. _You're doing well. Hang in there._

"Ah, let's try that again, shall we?" The Hood was slowly walking back and forward as though he was taking a leisurely stroll through the park. It seemed strange for him to be dressed so well but to be in a room such as this. Scott had no clue where they were. All he knew was that one second he had been blindfolded, then he'd been shoved into a dirt room, and there was still no sign of Jeff. In fact, there was no sign that life had ever been in here at all. _Had the Hood lied to them just to get them here?_ He couldn't have, Scott wasn't that stupid, it didn't make _sense._ But at the moment making sense of everything was the last of his worries.

The Hood was casually counting off his list of demands for what felt like the hundredth time. "You will _tell_ me where your base is, you _will_ give me the plans for the Thunderbirds, and you _will_ hand over your engineer. There's no question about it. Now that I've got you and your brother here…well, let's just say I'm more than confident I will get the results I desire."

" _You_ will tell _me…_ " Scott turned his head back to face the Hood, a jolt of pain shooting down the side of his face. He glared at the man, a man that was once a phantom now flesh and bone before him. "Where my _father_ is."

The Hood chuckled darkly before giving a small motion with his hands. The Henchman raised his fist and struck him again. Scott bit down hard on his tongue, clasping his eyes shut. Blood trickled down the side of his mouth and mixed with the dirt. He dug his nails into his palm to keep from crying out.

"Stubbornness is truly a trait you all share…" the Hood tutted and shook his head pityingly. "Really Scott, these are simple questions. I'm quite a busy man…your father gave away some secrets, now you can just fill in the rest."

Scott spat on the ground. There was no way the Jeff – the strongest person Scott knew – would just _give_ away information. Scott couldn't imagine what they had done to him to force even the slightest bit of material out. But obviously he had kept quiet about the most important facts; about the island, the 'birds, about Brains. His son would follow in his worthy footsteps. Nobody broke Scott Tracy. "Where is my _father?_ "

The Hood sighed heavily, disappointed with the reaction, but not surprised. "Oh come _on_ young man, you are starting to sound like a broken record."

Fire filled Scott's every word, even on his knees he could make himself sound just as tall as the men around him. "You _said_ you would take us to him."

"Of course I did…" the Hood slowly pulled a knife from his pocket. He balanced it delicately on his fingers, cruel smile caressing his lips. "But, I have to make you look good before you see him after all. Daddy isn't going to like seeing his boys bleed…but maybe after seeing you, he will finally give me what I've been asking for."

Scott and John shared a brief glance. Scott only just caught the flicker of fear in his brother's eyes. He offered him a comforting smile. He knew what was coming. _Better me than you_. "Dad has seen us bleed many times. I assure you, it will not make him tell _you_ anything."

The Hood smiled patronizingly. He knew that was a lie just as much as Scott did. Jeff may be calm in the face of stress, he may hide his emotions well, but it didn't mean he didn't _feel_ them. Every dangerous rescue he would be gripping the edge of the coffee table, or running his hands through his hair. There had been days where he had to physically remove himself from the room just to calm down and compose.

"We'll see about that…" the Hood strode towards him, balancing a glare as lethal as his dagger. "He did seem very cut up about your younger brother being captured by Mallory. Seeing you two instead will be a nice surprise. But Scott, if you spill some secrets along the way, then this process will be made a whole lot shorter."

"You can bleed me dry and you won't get _anything_ ," Scott hissed. Pain didn't scare Scott Tracy, well, not his _own_ pain. His family in pain, _that_ scared him. But the Hood could truly do anything he wanted to him, and Scott wouldn't budge.

The Hood knew this. The Hood knew what made the Tracy family tick. But he wanted to hurt him anyway. Scott was the threat here. A simple slip up on their part and this was all going under. If they looked away for a single moment Scott would have control of the situation. So the Hood had to make him weak. But he wouldn't use his dagger, no, that could be saved for later. So he instead he made a gesture with his hand.

The henchman stepped toward Scott and raised his fist again. This time the blow made him keel to the side, lip splitting with the weight of the throw. He felt a hand grasp his hair and yank him back upwards, shoving him back in position.

" _Where_ is your base?"

Scott remained silent, lifting his head high in defiance.

The henchman didn't even need a signal. He used his knee this time, shoving hard into Scott's stomach. Scott gasped loudly, doubling over at the jolt of pain. But again his head was yanked back up, strong hand gripping tightly to his hair. Scott gritted his teeth and met the Hood's stare.

"Where is your _base?_ " the Hood asked again, quite unfazed by his stoic front. He was used to it by now.

Scott spat at him, blood pooling in his mouth.

The Hood rolled his eyes and wandered over to where John knelt. John was practically frozen in his spot, eyes never leaving his brother. The Hood placed a hand on John's shoulder, "your brother really could get himself out of this you know. He's not sensible like you, is he?"

John didn't even acknowledge the man's presence.

"You could stop it, if you wanted? Just tell me where your base is and I'll leave him alone."

The astronaut gave the smallest shake of his head. Scott smiled proudly at him, but that soon turned into a grimace as sharp pain coursed through his jaw. Blood dripped from his mouth and when Scott tried to swallow all he could taste was the metallic substance. The Hood sighed heavily, foot tapping on the ground.

When the man didn't move away from John, Scott felt fear settle in the pit of his stomach. _No_ , he had to get the attention back on himself. Scott lashed out at the henchman before him, fist colliding with the man's knee. The guard grasped both his arms tightly to stop him from struggling, drawing them behind his back. _No, no, no_ …

"How about…" the Hood began slowly. His amber eyes glinted dangerously in the limited light, "we make pretty boy here a little bit _less_ pretty."

The words barely registered in Scott's mind. His heart was pounding, his jaw aching, but it didn't matter now because the Hood was going to hurt _John_. There was no _way_ that Scott could let that happen. "No," he growled. "Don't you… _dare._ "

"Well Scott," the Hood raised the dagger he had been holding, and in a flash he had drawn it quickly down John's cheek. The only indication that it had touched flesh was the widening of John's eyes. Small beads of blood trickled down his face, the Hood catching them on his blade. "You didn't exactly ask nicely, did you? After all, I _would_ like a fresh canvas to start on in front of your father…but then again, lessons need to be learnt about _compliance._ "

As quickly as the words were out of his mouth the Hood had slashed across John's arm. The astronaut gasped audibly, instinctively shifting away from the small blade. His gaze now twisted into a penetrating glare, eyes travelling to the line on his forearm.

"I'm… _I'm_ going to _kill you…"_ Scott hissed, arms trembling as he attempted tear them away from the henchman behind him. The defense force _had_ to come, they just _had_ to, Scott couldn't let him hurt John. The look in the Hood's eye said he knew that, he knew Scott's weakness. Damn _him._ Scott could never give away any information about IR, but what if they really started to hurt him? What could he _do?_

"Oh, it's just a little scratch…" the Hood muttered. With a flourish he pressed the flat side of the blade into John's collarbone.

"Get _away from him_ or I _swear_ I will-"

"Scott," the Hood pressed the tip of the blade against bone, digging it in only slightly so that small droplets of blood cascaded the silver. In his eyes, he was an artist. This dagger was his paint brush, but he didn't just want to spill blood, he wanted to spill secrets. "Your brother is of an age where he can take care of himself. Can't you John? You're going to tell me where your base is, aren't you?"

John met the Hood's stare. Who the _hell_ did this man think he was? The delicate flower of the family? He was talking to him like he was _five._ Well, John lived in freaking _space_ ; the quiet up there could drive most people mad. "Sure I'll tell you, it's right on the corner of _go fuck yourself._ "

The Hood was unable to hide his surprise at this outburst. Scott grimaced, though he couldn't help the surge of pride he felt for his immediate brother. Provoking criminals was never a very good idea. Scott did it all the time, but that was his job, the attention needed to be on _him_ so the others didn't get hurt but…wait. There it was again, the flash of knowing in John's eyes. The astronaut winked at his brother. Scott wasn't sure if he had actually _seen_ that, or if it was a flicker in his imagination. Either way that steely gaze calmed Scott a little.

The Hood glowered at John, drawing the blade quickly across his chest. The astronaut winced as his skin was torn, but he bit his lip not to cry out. Spots of blood seeped onto his shirt where the blade had cut through. It was shallow, not deep, and he knew it wouldn't cause any permanent damage. The Hood didn't want to kill him, not yet.

Scott couldn't tell that from where he was being held. "No!" his cry was strangled as he was yanked backward by the henchman holding him. "Get away from him you _bastard_ – I'm the one who knows things, not John, he can't tell you anything."

The Hood tutted and shook his head. "Young Tracy you are quite missing the point. If I hurt this one, you are more likely to reveal said information, am I right?"

Scott struggled violently but said nothing. That was confirmation enough for the Hood, so he turned back to John. The astronaut simply stared at him, with an almost bored expression. "You won't get anything from either of us," he said flatly. "No matter what you do."

"Hmm In that case, I almost _wish_ that I had your younger brother after all, he's so small I'm sure he would have been easy to break."

Scott growled fiercely at the mention of Gordon. John remained still, silent, unflinching. That annoyed the Hood. It annoyed him more than Scott's threats and yelling, it annoyed him more than the struggling, that this _boy_ would just sit before him entirely unafraid…well, the Hood would show him. John Tracy wasn't in control of this situation no matter how hard he pretended to be. The Hood was in charge and he was about to make that very clear. He gestured to the henchman behind John. "Give us a show…" he muttered. Instantly the man understood and raised his fist.

How long the beating went on for, John had no clue. The blows were rapid and direct, to his jaw, to his torso, to whatever part of him was exposed. One point he was kneeling, the next he was laying on the cold ground. Everything was spinning. He coughed weakly, spluttering blood. John was barely able to draw air due to the fire in his ribs. It took absolutely _everything_ he had not to cry out. If he cried out, that would only weaken Scott; it would make _him_ feel guilty for letting this happen. So John was silent as ever, and this irked the hood. In fact, it _enraged_ him.

Scott knew how long it had gone on. It barely lasted minutes, but it was brutal and strong, and he had to watch every second. He struggled violently with his captor, yelling every possible curse word until his throat was raw. He couldn't stand it, _dear god they were going to kill him…_ All the while John was silent. Finally Scott couldn't take it anymore and spoke for him. _"_ Stop! _Stop_ please I beg you _stop!"_

"Ah," the Hood drawled, raising a hand for the henchman to stop. "Are you wavering, young Scott? Do you have something you'd like to tell me?"

Scott looked desperately between John and the Hood. His brother lay on the ground, knees drawn protectively towards his chest. He gasped for air, chest rising and falling erratically, and all Scott wanted to do was run to him. Instead he clenched his fists tightly and glared with all the might he could muster at the Hood. He wanted to say something, he wanted to stop John's pain but…the astronaut would never forgive him if he let out information on his behalf. "I do have something to say," Scott said, tone deadly. "When this is over, when the Global Defense force arrives and they take you away, you're not going to have to deal with them. You're going to have to deal with _me._ You threatened not just one, but _all_ of my brothers and you will _pay_. You'll never own this world; I'll kill you before you get the chance."

There was a weighty pause as Scott's words rung around the room. "How lovely," the Hood finally said. He turned his back on Scott and studied John for a moment, admiring his handiwork. The astronaut was trembling, but appeared to be trying to make the effort to get back to his knees. His thin arms shuddered as he did so, blood dripping from his nose onto the floor. The Hood smiled. That would teach them. He gestured for the Henchmen again. "Take them away; I think they look good enough, don't you? Ta-ta boys, I'll be with you again soon, don't worry. Today is the day that I get my information; I can feel the cracks forming in you already."

He laughed to himself - like a true maniac - managing one last kick to John before he left the room. John finally let out a whimper, barely able to push himself back into an upright position. The henchman behind Scott let his arms go and the eldest raced towards John. Scott practically vibrated with rage. Kneeling next to his brother he forgot all his own pain – a bruised jaw was _nothing_ now. With strong and steady hands Scott helped his brother into sitting position, John gasping as pressure was forced onto his ribs.

"Shh – oh _god_ Johnny I'm so sorry…"

John would have said something to calm his brother down, but the pain was too great. He was afraid if he stopped grinding his teeth together then he would just _yell_. The fire in his ribs made John's head spin. Instinctively he folded against Scott, pressing himself to his brother's chest. Scott held him gently for a moment before a gun was pointed directly in front of his eye line.

"Get up, both of you." The voice behind one of the masks barked an order. He shoved the gun closer to intimidate them. "Don't try nothing, or you'll end up with a bullet through your head, Gettit?"

"Don't try…a-anything…" John coughed, shaking from the effort it took to simply speak. Scott would have laughed. Of course he had to waste precious words on correcting grammar.

The henchman didn't get it. "That's right, you've got the idea. Now get _up._ "

Scott knew there was no point in arguing, or fighting, John couldn't go anywhere in his condition. Besides, where was there to _go?_ They could be in a different country for all he knew. So he carefully detached himself from John and got to his feet. Lightly, he placed an arm around his brother's waist and practically lifted him to his feet. John hissed, squeezing Scott's arm tightly. Tears sprung to his eyes as his ribs were stretched. His legs shook, but Scott's strong arms held him up.

With one henchman behind, and one in front, they moved off. John could only take small steps, every now and then he would stumble. Scott was gentle, and patient, and each time one of the men shouted at them to hurry up Scott would tell them where to stick it. The eldest brother was _angry._ It filled his very being with vengeful thoughts, with hatred for this man who had no _reason_ to dislike them like he did. The Hood _disgusted_ him. Scott would have knocked these two guys off in an instant and busted after the mastermind if he could…but John was more important than any of that.

"Just a little longer," Scott murmured as his brother hissed again. In truth he had no idea where they were headed. They were stumbling down a long, dirt corridor, which appeared to have no end. No natural light filtered in from anywhere, the place was only dimly lit with electric bulbs. They had to be underground, Scott had figured out that much, but from there he could formulate nothing.

Eventually they stopped outside another wooden door. John was leaning heavily on him now, eyelids flickering as he desperately tried to stay conscious. Before Scott could ask for anything for his brother, the henchman took him roughly by the shoulder and shoved him forward. Scott tumbled through the doorway, hands and knees colliding with hard stone and dirt. His jaw scraped against the surface, the jolt of pain making him feel sick. A thud next to him indicated John had not been given the nice treatment.

With a creak the door behind them was closed, slamming hard upon clay walls. Squares of light battled the darkness as Scott's eyes tried to adjust. He gasped for breath, pushing himself to his knees. The smell was sickening, rancid clothes and stale vomit mixed in with wet earth, it almost made Scott gag.

He shuffled towards his brother's limp figure, placing both hands on his shoulders. John's eyes were closed and blood was smeared across his right cheek. His breathing was uneven, falling short as the pain in his ribs proved too much to bear. With shaking hands, Scott gently lifted the astronaut's shirt to examine the cut across his chest. It had bled a little, but appeared to have stopped. A parade of bruises was forming across his midriff. Scott winced just looking at it. "Johnny, you have to stay with me," Scott was breathless as he said it, feeling panic begin to shiver through his body. "I'm so, so sorry I didn't stop it…John please…"

A weak hand rose to grasp Scott's shaking wrist. Long fingers squeezed it tightly. He didn't say anything, but Scott knew what he meant, he could picture the way he would say it to. _Shut up. It's not your fault. End of story._

"I'm going to kill him for doing this to you."

"Scott," John coughed, inhaling sharply. "Y-you said we'd…do this together."

"Not like _this,_ I never would have brought you if I expect anything like it!" Scott growled. Bunching up his sleeve he reached forward to dab at the cut on John's cheek. What a scar that was going to make.

The astronaut snatched at his hand. "Don't."

Scott retreated, wiping away the blood from his own mouth instead. He ignored the throb that was growing in his jaw. "I need to move you onto your side," he said softly. "It's going to hurt but-"

"N-no…" John opened one of his eyes. "Just…just help me…sit up…"

"Demanding," Scott joked weakly. He looped one arm around John's shoulders, the other acting as something for John to dig his fingers into when the pain became too much.

"You know me…"

"Alright, here we go-"

John gasped loudly as Scott eased him up, the astronauts face paling even further. It took a couple more painstaking movements to get his back up against the wall, but when it was done, John was relieved to have something to lean against. Breathing heavily, John's arms dropped to cradle his ribs. "It feels just l-like I'm back at…middle school."

Scott bit his lip. "I protected you a lot better at middle school."

"Hmm…" John squeezed his eyes shut tightly, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over him. An involuntary moan escaped his lips. Scott grimaced, wanting so _badly_ to be able to do something for his brother. He should have stopped the Hood, it should have been him, but he could do _nothing._ There was no water he could use to wash the blood away, there were no meds, Scott was helpless…they had _nothing._

Scott glanced up at this thought, realizing he was yet to actually examine the room. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he looked around. It was no bigger than a small bedroom, even equipped with a wiry framed bed in the corner. Perhaps he could get John onto that, to make him more comfortable…

Scott froze.

Like an electric shock a shiver ran through him as he realised they weren't alone.

The other figure was in shock too.

Large eyes blinked back at him from the bed, glistening in the small amount of light that entered the room. Scott felt all the air escape his lungs. His heart stopped, his brain stopped, the very air around them seemed to grow stagnant. It couldn't be…Scott's fingers dug into the dirt ground.

Gordon had been _right._

He made a pact with himself in that moment to never; _ever_ doubt his younger brother again.

Scott's hand managed to find John's and he squeezed it tightly. It was more for his own benefit than for his brothers. _Was Scott dreaming? Was this real?_ If it was real, why wasn't he saying anything? A sound escaped Scott's lips before he could stop it.

" _Scott?_ " the shaky voice was barely familiar to Scott's ears, nor was the thin form of the man before him. But Scott knew those eyes anywhere. Those were _his_ eyes staring back at him. Eyes that held so much emotion in that moment, so many memories.

"Dad…" Scott's voice broke, throat tightening.

It was clear Jeff had just woken up. Perhaps he thought he was dreaming too. Scott let go of John's hand and got to his feet. He swallowed, heart pounding against his chest. _Was this just another trick?_ But then Jeff began to move, and as he got closer, Scott saw his father. Dark purple bruises were splashed beneath his eyes and nose, and what looked like burns caressed the skin of his upper arm. It wasn't just burns either, but thins scars. They were meticulously sliced into his skin, still raw and red, crusted with dry blood.

"No, no, no…you can't really be here…" Jeff was muttering to himself as he moved closer. They were cautious movements, tentative, one's that indicated he wasn't really sure if he was awake. Scott was the same. Instinctively he reached out a hand, brushing it against his father's shoulder just to see if he was real. At the touch, both of them seemed to snap out of the trance.

Scott's knees trembled and threatened to give way. Jeff sensed this – as he always did – and placed two hands on his son's arms to keep him steady. Those hands were still strong; they were not the hands of a broken man. Scott let out another involuntary whimper, eyes rolling to the roof as he fought back tears. _He was really here. He was alive._

"My boy…" Jeff wasted no time in drawing Scott to him. It was a desperate embrace, his arms locking tightly around his son as though he never wanted to let go. Scott buried his head in his father's shoulder. It had been a long time since he was allowed to be the comforted rather than the comforter. Scott had just enough time to register how thin his father felt in his arms before Jeff pulled away.

"But…how? Dad, the crash it…how did you…?" Scott's words stumbled out of his mouth, too stunned to form proper sentences. Scott had almost given up _hope._ But now his father was standing before him, not unscathed but _alive._ _If Gordon hadn't run away…_

Jeff didn't answer Scott's questions, too absorbed in his own. "Boys…I don't understand. I can't believe this," he ran a shaky hand through his hair. It was a gesture that was so familiar to Scott that he had to fight not to do the same thing. Over Scott's shoulder, Jeff's eyes had travelled to where John was sitting, instantly widening upon seeing his son's condition.

The change in him was instantaneous. The shock at seeing his boys vanished, so did the caution and the almost feeble look about him. Instead his jaw hardened and his eyes narrowed. His usual air of authority and strength returned in a heartbeat. Scott took a shaky step backward at the rapidity of the transformation. His face might be gaunt, his skin scarred, but he was still their father.

Jeff took one stride to reach John. In a swift movement he knelt by his side, one hand cupping beneath his chin. "What did they do to you…" he murmured quietly.

John just stared at him, sea-glass eyes blinking in typical John style astonishment. It reminded Scott so much of the home video they watched that he had to hold back a laugh. The rush of pure joy at seeing Jeff was dampened by the reminder of where they were – what they had coming for them.

"I thought you were dead," John said quietly. It was a simple statement on his part, it had been logical to assume his father was dead after all. But Jeff heard all the hidden connotations in his second eldest words. _I'm sorry I didn't look harder. I'm sorry I gave up hope. I missed you._ Jeff's face morphed into one of distress. He pulled John gently towards him and the astronaut allowed himself to be embraced. No words needed to be said between father and son. They were together again, the joy and relief Jeff felt at that was inexpressible. Picturing his children, picturing seeing them again, that had been what was getting him through this hell.

But…he didn't want it like this. They were _here_ , with the Hood, and that terrified him more than any threat of his own torture could.

Before Scott could ask one of the thousands of questions muddling his brain, Jeff got there first. It was like somebody had flicked a switch and he was now in business mode. "Scott, son, I can't tell you how…how _stunned_ and thrilled I am to see you. I know you'll have a lot to ask about what happened; frankly I'm not so sure myself. But first…I need you to tell me what happened to _you._ How did you get here? Did that _bastard_ get to you? Are your brothers alright?"

Scott straightened, visibly trying to get a hold of himself. This was all too much, he didn't know how to _feel_. "Yes…Sir, I…we well…" Jeff noticed as his voice shook. Scott took a deep breath and moved over to his father, getting down to his and John's level. Jeff always relied on Scott to be alright, so he had to be alright now, he had to be strong. "First off – yes, the others are fine thankfully. They should be back home by now." _If Virgil honors his promise…_

"But Gordon – " Jeff couldn't help but interrupt, his eyes the only thing that gave away the fear he felt for his second youngest.

Scott tried to keep his words from rushing out, but that was almost impossible. "Gordon was taken by Mallory because he found out he arranged the board meeting. They were going to give him to the Hood but John traced his movements and I found him in time."

Jeff sagged in relief. "Thank _god._ " Ever since that phone call, thoughts of Gordon had been weighing heavily on his mind. The worst possible scenario was that he would end up here with Jeff. That nightmare had still happened however, only with two of his sons rather than one. But it was different to have Scott and John here. They were older, they could plan something together, surely nobody could hold three Tracy's for long…

Scott nodded in agreement. Quickly he explained how they had planned to meet with and then track the Hood. Jeff remained composed throughout the story until Scott reached the end. "So that's what he wants us here for…for _persuasion._ They hurt…" Scott's head dropped, he pressed a hand against his forehead like he was trying to erase the memory from his mind. "Johnny, they hurt him, to try and make me speak. They'll do the same to you…"

Jeff's face darkened and Scott could practically feel the fury growing inside his father. Scott looked away, unable to meet that stare, and instead studied the array of burns and scars patterned across his arms. It made him feel ill that the Hood had been able to do this to a man Scott too often thought was invincible.

"All this time he's been trying to make me draw the plans for the ships, or give him co-ordinates for base, even build him a plane of his own…" Jeff said quietly, absentmindedly running a hand through John's hair. He was studying Scott carefully, like he was trying to memorize every detail of his face. "But I've never given away anything. I pride myself on that; I did that for you boys. Now that you're here…" Jeff shook his head.

"So you _didn't_ tell him about International Rescue?" Scott asked, trying not to make it sound like an accusation. He never believed that his father _could_ do such a thing.

Jeff shook his head, eyes flashing angrily. "Never! That's why he took _me_ Scott. The man got hold of footage of the crafts and their pilots, somehow he figured out it was you boys. Don't ask me how – our security was air tight. But, thankfully, the only one of us he had access to was _me._ "

"Oh…" Scott exhaled slowly, now coming to terms that it might have been his fault their father was taken in the first place. He was the one that was supposed to make sure no media or cameras were present or utilized…

Jeff sensed this instantly and reached out his free hand to squeeze Scott's arm. "But don't worry about that now, we'll figure it out when we…if we…" he quickly changed topic. "Tell me about the boys – are they really ok? What about Mother? I can't _imagine_ what this had been like…" a flash of a smile graced his weary face. "What about rescues? Have they gone well – have you been commanding? Oh it's been so long since I…" he trailed off, concerned by Scott's silence.

Scott wanted to tell him everything. He wanted to say that _no_ , everything had not been ok, _no_ , the boys were not ok, Grandma was not ok, rescues were not ok, _he_ was not ok, everything was absolutely terrible. But his father had been _here_ , held by the Hood, _tortured_ by the Hood – their problems were not nearly as terrible as his. "They hurt you…" was all Scott said.

Jeff sighed, pulling John closer to him, almost protectively. "Yes they did. They hurt you too. I won't let it happen again, I swear it."

Scott's eyes lifted slowly. He didn't want it to happen again either, but they didn't exactly have a choice in the matter. "The only way to stop it is to give him information."

Jeff was silent.

"I can handle it Dad," Scott said seriously. "I don't care what they do to me; it's not worth risking IR over."

"I know _you_ can handle it Scott. I may not like it, but you're strong, I've always known that. But you care what they do to John," Jeff said softly. "So do I."

Scott nodded. They were at an understanding. A problematic understanding at that.

John's eyes opened and instantly he locked Scott into a glare. "Ok I'm going to interrupt you both for a moment…" Jeff started at the sound of his second son's voice. Looking down at him he was met by the same glare. "First of all, I'm not some precious doll that needs to be looked after." This could have been contradicted by the fact that he was wincing with every word, but Scott didn't interrupt. " _Secondly_ , as much as it hurts, this isn't going to kill me. Third, and probably most important, we don't have to worry about giving away any information."

Jeff shared a glance with Scott. "…why?"

"I ate a transmitter."

Oh.

Jeff's eyes widened as realization dawned. Not only did they not have to worry about giving away information, but they could get _out_ of here. Jeff could see the sun again; he could see all _his_ sons'. Slowly a proud smile grew on his face, changing his appearance entirely. "That's my boy."

Scott brought a hand up to his forehead in realization. Of _course,_ why hadn't he thought of that? If they hadn't been so rushed, maybe he would have. They didn't need to lock onto the plane's signal after all. The Hood had checked them both for any transmitting devices when they were on the plane, but there was no detecting an _edible_ transmitter. "John, you are a _genius -_ " Scott stopped. The realization had brought a flood of relief, which was now quickly dissolved by fear about what that meant. "Wait…so _Virg_ is probably tracking it, right?"

John looked between his father and brother, the same look of concern now mirrored on both their faces. John rolled his eyes. Virgil wasn't stupid enough to come after them without backup, so there was no need to be worried. All they had to do was wait for him and – _hopefully_ \- half the defense force to show up. In the meantime, they would just have to hope the Hood wouldn't get to them.

John didn't say anything. He just closed his eyes again and let his father and brother go about their pointless worrying.

John wasn't worried, he felt safe now. It was strange how instantly his father's presence did that to him. The idea that Virgil was after them was pretty comforting too, and Alan and Gordon were probably at home getting fussed over by their Grandmother. There was nothing to worry about, not really. An involuntary shiver ran down his spin. _Unless the Hood got to them first._

ooooo

Gordon peered through the cover of trees and saw a shack. Well, it looked like a shack to him. It was a small wooden structure that could barely fit two people let alone three Tracy's and the Hood. It didn't exactly strike Gordon as a place that a criminal mastermind would want to have a lair either, but this was where the signal led.

"Is that it?" he whispered, rather disappointed by the site that lay before them. The three remaining Tracy's were standing in the middle of what was practically a jungle. It wasn't _actually_ a jungle of course; it was in fact, an abandoned golf course. It had become so overrun with weeds and overhanging plants that it felt like they were in the Amazon. A thick border of trees protected the golf course from view of the shack. Not that there was anyone that they needed to be protected from. Not yet anyway.

Thunderbird 'Two was parked off in the distance, protected by another grove of trees. One was parked near her counterpart, reflecting rays of sunlight off into the distance. They had been following John's signal for over three hours. An hour in, the signal had stopped moving, indicating the Hood had arrived where he wanted to…Unless he had thrown John's body out of the plane, which was something Gordon didn't want to think about.

Alan had arrived at the location first – which they later agreed had been a _bad_ idea – and decided to do a flyby to see what they were up against. He insisted that he had flown high enough not to be seen, but the others weren't so sure. Alan had then explained that he saw absolutely nothing but a small, rundown building. Since that was where the signal was coming from, Gordon just went with it. Now he was staring at the shack. _At least it wasn't another basement_.

"It looks like where they would have kept golf equipment…" Alan said softly, for once able to control the volume of his voice.

Virgil murmured in agreement. "It's a good cover I suppose. There must be more to it than meets the eye. Considering that John's signal was below ground level, I'm going to assume tunnels."

Great. Gordon hated tunnels.

They waited. Nothing happened.

After a moment, a flicker of movement caught Gordon's eye. A shadowy figure emerged from the small hut, face completely hidden by a large - rather unnecessary, in Gordon's opinion – helmet. Trust the Hood to even dress his guards dramatically. The man looked about before slipping back inside the small building.

"Did you see that?" Gordon hissed, absentmindedly rolling his shoulders as they began to stiffen up. "They are in there! We have to go-"

"Woah there," Virgil shuffled in front of him. His eyes darted nervously toward the shed, obviously just as eager to go gallivanting after their brothers. But still, he remained the voice of reason. "Slow down kid."

Gordon was running on a mixture of anger, adrenaline, and a whole lot of exhaustion. He didn't want to slow down. If he did, it would all catch up with him. He was ready go in there, right now, and just get everything back to normal. But someone rather large and intimidating – only on the outside – was standing in his way.

"I am _not_ stupid enough to go in there without back-up." Virgil stated firmly.

Gordon raised an eyebrow. "Nope, but I am," he turned on his heel and made to duck past his brother. Virgil reached out a hand and grasped at Gordon's collar to stop him from moving. The aquanaut inhaled sharply and halted.

"What is with this sudden disregard for your own life?" Virgil stared him down. Gordon was too hyperactive to be affected by it. He just shrugged the comment off. If it came down to choosing between his own safety, and the others, _everybody_ would be choosing the same thing here.

Virgil continued, looking to Alan for back-up. "I called the defense force, they're on their way. So technically we don't need to _do_ anything."

"But it will take them another two plus hours to get here," Alan said, very unhelpfully. "That's a lot of time for the Hood to have them. It doesn't look all that bad from here. If we go in there now then we could take him by surprise and-"

Virgil raised a hand to stop Alan talking, "There's no _we._ "

"You're sounding an awful lot like Scott," Gordon muttered, digging his foot into the ground.

Virgil narrowed his eyes, folded his arms across his chest, and took a step back. Gordon almost smiled. Now he looked like Scott too. "Alright, well what do you suggest? We just wander up, knock on the door, and ask for our family back?"

Gordon turned to Alan, who was already looking at him expectantly for a plan. Gordon was the master of planning after all. Sometimes he spent weeks organizing elaborate pranks for his brothers, and for that he needed to be clever. "Al, how do you feel about taking One for a joyride?"

Alan's eyes instantly lit up, but his excitement was dampened by the thought that perhaps Gordon had gone a little bit insane. Now was not exactly the time to express his love for speed. But still, he didn't question it. "Well, I'd love to."

"Good. We're going to need a jet-sized distraction, and you're the best pilot out of us-" Virgil glowered at him. Gordon smiled sheepishly, "the best pilot of _One_ that is. We're gonna need you to fly over top of the location again, except this time fly real low. You're gonna need to get their attention-"

"Gordon this is _not_ a good idea-"

"I can do that!" Alan ignored Virgil entirely. "I get where you're heading with this! Then when the guards spot One, they'll chase after me right? But I'll just fly away. Really fast."

"Close," Gordon was enjoying his little brother's enthusiasm. "You're going to fly by, you're going to land, and then you're going to wait. The guards are going to want to investigate, and to investigate they are going to have to walk by the very place that Virgil and I will be standing. A little tranquilizer and they'll be out. Then we'll slip on those stupid helmets, and walk in there just like we belong."

Virgil shut his eyes in exasperation, muttering something beneath his breath.

Alan looked please, "awesome, I can do that. Then I come join you right?"

Gordon hesitated. "No Al…then you fly really fast. We need you to look after the 'birds, if anyone stumbles across them unguarded, that's not gonna be a fun time. Especially if we get Dad back. Imagine what he'd think if we left them alone."

Alan shifted, smile fading, "You just want me out of the way."

Gordon sighed. It was kind of true. Imagine what Dad would think if they brought _Alan_ into the Hood's lair. That would certainly be a bad idea. Then again, this whole thing was a bad idea. Gordon was good at those. "No Al…well, ok _maybe_ , but I meant what I said. You're a brilliant flyer and that's what we need right now."

Alan brightened considerably again, wanting nothing more than to know that he was needed.

"We'll also need you to keep in contact with the GD, and Grandma." Virgil said slowly. He was extremely wary to admit to this 'plan', if he could even call it that. "Can you do that for me?"

Their youngest brother nodded, full of pride at being given such important duties. Gordon was pretty proud of him too. The aquanaut turned to Virgil, an eyebrow raised in question. "You in then?"

"We don't know how many people will be down there, we don't know what we'll face, what kind of weapons they have – hell, the Hood might be alerted to our presence already. He could have a whole factory down there and we wouldn't know it! I'm telling you, this is too risky Gordon."

"Let me ask you one question," Gordon winced as his wrist brushed against the nearest tree. He drew back in thought. "If you were here alone, would you go down there?"

Virgil sighed. With that question, Gordon had won. "…yes."

"Then I'll ask you again, are you in?"

ooooo

Fifteen minutes later the sound of 'One's thrusters engulfed the area they were standing in. Virgil was watching with gritted teeth as Alan hovered over the small shack, waiting until masked guards came out to investigate the noise. When two of the henchmen emerged abruptly, the youngest Tracy turned the jet around, and flew back towards the golf course.

When the sound of 'One's engines cut out behind Virgil and Gordon, the henchmen did exactly as was expected, and began to run toward where the noise had come from. By now, Virgil had managed to think on how bad this idea was. Not only could they _all_ get captured, but the Hood could get his hands on the 'birds too. Yet the idea of his brothers and father being subject to the Hood was strong motivation not to care. So that's what Virgil did, he just let himself _not_ care. His focus was entirely on getting his family back.

"I don't think I've ever shot someone with a tranquilizer gun before," Gordon noted casually, balancing the weapon in his hand.

"I have. Don't aim for the head."

"I'm definitely going to need the story behind that…"

The two masked figures burst into the patch of trees, so focused on getting to 'One that they didn't even see Gordon and Virgil lurking in the shadows. Virgil simply raised his gun and shot, sending a dart filled with sedative into one of the men's legs. Gordon shot as well, but missed and hit a tree. Virgil rolled his eyes and did his brother's job for him. In moments, both henchmen slumped forward into the leaves.

"Glad you took care of that tree Gordy, It was being pretty aggressive." Virgil moved quickly towards the fallen men. Time was of the essence now; it wouldn't be long before other guards expected these ones to return.

"I said I hadn't shot it before," Gordon followed his brother's lead.

Virgil informed Alan via watch that he was ok to fly back to where 'Two was parked, far enough away to avoid detection. He was glad that Gordon had given the youngest Tracy something to do _other_ than face the Hood. It proved Gordon cared just as much as they all did, he was just better at hiding it.

Quickly they tugged and pulled to get the Henchmen out of their strange white jumpsuits. Virgil took the bigger man's, though the material still had to stretch to fit over his muscles. Gordon's was too big and he ended up looking like a child trying on his parents clothes. The guards had been holding guns, and as much as it went against Gordon's values, he took one anyway. Virgil did the same. They detached the helmets – finding that the henchmen looked far less scary in their underclothes and with normal faces – and put them over their own heads.

The helmet was stuffy, heavy, and awfully uncomfortable. The weight of it irked Gordon's shoulders, and he found it hard to stay balanced. After a few steps he soon regained footing. "What on earth is the point of these…?" Gordon sounded muffled through the plastic.

"Dramatic flair?" Virgil offered halfheartedly.

The two of them shared a look – well, Gordon suspected they did, he couldn't actually see Virgil's face. "Gordon, I need you to promise me you won't do anything stupid in there."

Gordon made a face. He could _never_ promise that with anything that he did. If there was the choice between sacrificing himself for the others then he would do it in a heartbeat. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that; they had weapons now, and a limited disguise. Perhaps it would be the easiest thing in the world. But Gordon was scared. He was scared of what they might find down there. He was scared that the Hood had already got to his brothers. Mostly he was scared that he would come out of this without them. But Virgil didn't need to know all of this; Virgil had enough concerns of his own. "I promise."

"Good," Virgil took a deep breath. "Let's just pretend this is another rescue."

"Ok, I can work with that. Like an undercover mission."

"Sure." There was a pause. Neither of them moved forward. "Hey bud?"

"Hmm."

"I'm sure glad to have my co-pilot back by my side."

Gordon smiled and placed a hand on his brother's arm. "So am I. Now let's go rescue our family."

ooooo

 **Note: Ooh it will all go down in the next chapter! Sorry to any John lovers, blame it on the Hood, not me…next part should be up by the end of this week. Thanks for reading!**


	11. Chapter 11

_AN: Just kidding, up earlier than I thought because your reviews all inspired me to write! Thanks for a wonderful response to the last one._

 _ooooo_

They ran through the tunnel. There was nothing to stop them from moving as quickly as possible, no guards to look out for, and no stealth needed, Gordon and Virgil fit in here. It was the silence that made the tunnel so different from the world above. It was cool, damp, and just big enough for them to stand up in. If Gordon reached his hands upward he could touch the roof. Virgil was physically trying to make himself smaller so he could fit with ease. Well, that was one perk of being short.

Stones were piled up on each side of the wall to give it extra strength, as well as perfectly placed wooden columns to support the roof. It was thorough architecture, which must have taken them a lifetime to complete. Gordon had to give the Hood some credit. He didn't mess around when it came to secret lairs, it was a shame that they were about to expose it all. At the end of the winding wormhole there was a glimmer of light, so that's what they headed for. The light at the end of the tunnel.

Virgil burst through first, quickly followed by Gordon, and they found themselves in a small room. The roof was higher here so they could fully stretch out, and the Hood had even gone as far as to decorate the place with various pictures. It was like a foyer, or a lobby, and it didn't exactly give the impression of being underground with this luxurious décor.

"Hey, what are you two back for? Aren't you sposed to be on guard duty?" A harsh voice made them both start. Gordon whirled around and spotted another masked figure standing by the wall. His heart leapt into his throat, but was quickly calmed by the fact that he himself was disguised. How many henchmen did the Hood _need_?

"We err…" Virgil was the one to speak. Gordon thought that was a _bad_ idea because Virg had a rather distinct voice, one that not many others had, so this was going to be interesting. Though Virgil was certainly sounding a _lot_ calmer than Gordon right now, "we have to talk to the boss. An unidentified aircraft is flying around."

The henchman was quiet for a moment. His voice was low and gravelly. Gordon was picturing a builder. "…what kind of aircraft?"

"A jet, we think. It flew away before we got a good look. We thought we should inform the boss. You know, just in case."

The man stalked towards them quietly, obviously seeing right through their disguise. Gordon found his palms were sweating as he held his weapon. This was certainly not a good start. He didn't really think of the henchmen as human beings, so the thought that they would be friends, and know each other's voices, wasn't one that had really occurred to him.

Virgil was still trying to salvage the situation. In fact, he seemed unaware of the impending threat. "So you know if you could tell us where the boss is, that would be great. We'll just fill him in and be on our way."

The man continued moving towards them.

"…or you could tell them," Virgil chuckled nervously.

Gordon rolled his eyes, brought up his tranquilizer gun, and shot. This time he actually hit the guy, the dart flying into his shin. A strangled cry escaped the man, before his body slumped to the floor. They did _not_ have time for this. Besides, the more henchmen that they could knock out then the better off they would be.

"Gordon!" Virgil hissed, hitting him on the arm. "What the hell are you doing?"

Gordon shrugged, too agitated to really get his head around what he was doing. Bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, he threw the tranquilizer gun between his hands. He just wanted his father and brothers, if something got in the way of that, then they better watch out. "At least I didn't use the real gun." No, that was safely stashed by his side.

" _Gordon._ Now how are we supposed to find the _Hood?_ I was trying to ask him where he is!"

"Yeah sorry to inform you but that wasn't _working._ " Gordon snapped, trying to control his breathing as he looked around the room. "Don't get all pedantic on me Virg, let's just go and look for them."

Virgil ignored the attitude. Something about Gordon's mannerisms was making him look awfully paranoid. Inwardly he groaned; paranoid, exhausted, and hyperactive was not a good mix. Gordon was right of course, just looking for their brothers _was_ a good idea; the only problem was that there wasn't just one tunnel. The room that they were now in had various pathways leading in different directions. Some of them looked dark, other tunnels were lit, but basically there was no knowing where they led. All Vigil had wanted was for the henchmen to point them towards the right one. But now, it was going to be a whole lot of trial and era.

Gordon had obviously realised this too. "Maybe we should split up?"

The aquanaut answered his own question by starting to walk away. Virgil growled, grabbed onto his arm and yanked him backwards. Gordon gasped at the strain on his shoulder. Virgil didn't really mind that he hurt him; he deserved the pain for being this reckless. "Gords, _stop._ We need to do this together. If we split up, we're going to lose each other. Ok? So just calm down. We'll do this slowly."

Gordon laughed. It wasn't a very comforting laugh, more of a desperate one, on the verge of hysterics. "Dude, I just shot a guy, don't you think that warrants a little speed?"

Virgil bit his lip. Oh crap. He hadn't thought of that. If one of the other henchmen, or the Hood himself discovered that this guard had been knocked out then it was _not_ going to be good. "Wow, ok…we'll go fast. But remember, we are _guards_ , we're meant to be here. Just act natural."

Gordon gave a swift nod, turned on his feet, and chose one of the tunnels at random. Virgil had no choice but to follow him. Extremely concerned about his younger brother's mindset, the artist just hoped he could hold it together until they were reunited with the others. Their heavy shoes crunched in the dirt as they strode down the dark corridor. Every now and then they would pass a small electric light that would buzz as they neared it, but that was the only lighting they were going to get.

When they came to the first door, Gordon halted. Virgil almost crashed into him as he did so. It was a basic, wooden door, attached to a timber frame that had been built into the dirt. There was no way that they could see inside and It would be a _complete_ gamble to open. Virgil was very much against complete gambles. "Don't touch it…" he whispered. "You have no idea what's behind there. It could be a whole bunch of guards for all we know."

Gordon's helmet turned towards him. Virgil couldn't actually see Gordon's face, or his expression, but he could feel his reproachful eyes locking onto him, scanning him. Virgil could sense accusation in his gaze. _What if it's them? What if we were just too scared to open it and left them?_ Well, Virgil wasn't scared, he was cautious.

But Gordon opened it anyway. Of course he did. Because when did Gordon _ever_ listen to his older brother? Virgil felt irritation slither through him. He clenched his hand tighter around his gun. The door swung open with a creak to reveal a dimly lit room. A solitary lightbulb swung back and forward, somehow hooked up to an electricity system. The light cast shadows over the contents which just looked like a whole lot of twisted metal sheets. Virgil peered over his brother's shoulder, relieved that it hadn't been anything worse. "Those are recycled plane parts…" he murmured.

Gordon didn't care. It wasn't his brothers, so he wasn't interested. Quickly the aquanaut shut the door and continued walking down the corridor. Virgil sighed, a little intrigued about what sort of materials the Hood was keeping down here. But there was no time, so he raced after his younger brother.

Like an unchecked storm Gordon went about swinging open doors, getting more and more frustrated as they only found plans, or papers, or building materials. At one stage two Henchmen emerged from a room, carrying hammers and nails in their arms. They didn't pay any notice to the brothers at all, assuming they were there to do the same thing. Virgil came to the conclusion that they were actually building vehicles down here. Perhaps trying to emulate the thunderbirds, maybe even trying to get Jeff to build them one…

Gordon slammed the last door in the corridor, whirling on Virgil. "Dammit! Ok, we have to go back and try the next route. I _told_ you we should have split up, this would have been a _lot_ faster-"

"Gordon _,"_ Virgil warned. "Breathe please."

Gordon took a deep breath. As he exhaled his shoulders slumped, the uniform he was wearing really did look far too big for him. Virgil furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what he was thinking bringing him down here. He had meant what he said, the artist was extremely glad to have Gordon back by his side, but not when Gordon was feeling like this. Filing a mental note, Virgil reminded himself to talk to him later. Really _talk_ to him, not just avoid the important stuff like they always did.

Gordon's body stiffened, looking at something over Virgil's shoulder. The artist slowly and calmly turned around. He didn't want anything to look out of place. Two more henchmen were wandering in their direction, possibly the same ones who were coming back for supplies.

"Hey you!" Gordon yelled. Virgil winced, whacking his hand into his brother's chest. _What was he thinking? Gee, what was wrong with him?_ Gordon ignored him as the two Henchmen looked their way.

"What?" One of them called back gruffly. Surprisingly, he was not defensive.

"Do you know where the boss is?"

The others snorted. "He's with the prisoner's you idiot, where do ya think?"

"I _know_ that," Gordon retorted sharply, managing to sound a lot like them. "But what room were they moved to? We forgot but we were sposed to be meeting him."

"B-9," one of them drawled, "Better hurry, he'll kill ya if you're late. Just kiddin. After that, if you could give us a hand on the new hub we could really use it. That's in the _base area_ if you forgot that too." One of them sniggered and hit the others shoulder.

"Thanks…" Gordon muttered beneath his breath. Virgil exhaled, having held his breath through the entire discussion. Gordon was really walking a thin line right now, but apparently he didn't care. Sure, Virgil understood his disregard for his _own_ safety, but did he realise he was putting Virgil at risk too? Alan as well? No, he just wasn't thinking. But, the aquanaut had got what they wanted. Not that Virgil had a clue where _B-9_ was. This time he took the initiative however, and began to head down the corridor before Gordon could run off.

"You just have to speak their language bro," Gordon joked, having to force himself not to break into a sprint in case it drew unwanted attention.

Virgil rolled his eyes, "you also have to refrain from shooting them with a stun gun."

"That guy was on to us."

"He was _not_. You're paranoid."

"Yeah well-"

An alarm cracked into the air. It was high and piercing, so much like the klaxon that Virgil thought he was waking up from a nightmare. Gordon jumped at the sound. They looked at one another. Oh _no…_ One of the lights had turned red, flashing on and off as the alarm continued to sound. _They must have found the guard_. Without even checking to see if Virgil was following, Gordon sprinted off down the tunnel. They had to get to the others.

ooooo

John was struggling to stay conscious.

His eyelids flickered, the blurry shapes of his brother and father melting into shadows. The Hood's face twisted into something grotesque, and as he reached forward, the pain started up again.

In John's mind, he was screaming. Not a calm scream either, no, every thought he had was becoming just as confusing as the burning pain that pulsed through his arm. Everything _hurt._ It was so bad that all he wanted to do was close his eyes and disappear into the comforting darkness. Perhaps when he woke again he would be surrounded by stars.

People around him were shouting too. They were really doing it, out loud, but John's was all in his head. He couldn't yell, he wasn't sure why, but he just couldn't…A sudden rush of anger cut through his pain, anger for those around him that he wanted to protect. Not from their own pain, but from his. He couldn't look at them, so he closed his eyes. Maybe if he closed his eyes they wouldn't be there.

 _Shit._ John bit down hard on his lip. His teeth pierced through the skin, blood trickled into his mouth, but he didn't care. That was _nothing._ Nothing compared to his arm.

Demanding words were muffled in with the yells. John shook his head and struggled. Surely it wasn't weakness to struggle? If it was, then he would stop. But he didn't want them to do it again. Pressure was put on his arm. He couldn't move it; somebody was holding him, and now it was happening again, the burning… John gasped sharply, eyes flinging open as heat seared his skin.

This time he really did yell. Oh god, he couldn't help it. He was supposed to be _strong._ Scott would have been strong…but this was _hell._ He couldn't bear it; they had to make it _stop. Please. Please_ …

The Hood smiled as he watched John writhe. He had decided that in fact, John was the real threat here. This boy was good. Watching his father in pain he said nothing, watching his brother he said nothing, and when _he_ was in pain; still nothing. It was _infuriating_ , but the Hood also took it as a challenge. "Come now Jeff, It seems John can't handle much more of this. Unconscious victims are far less fun than conscious ones."

"You _bastard-"_ Scott hissed breathlessly, struggling to escape from the grip his captor had on him. John was in front of them, his thin form struggling weakly. Part of Scott wanted John to slip unconscious, that way they would move onto him instead. Scott wasn't sure how much longer he could take this. "Get away from _him."_

The Hood rolled his eyes. Jeff on the other hand, was deathly silent. He glared at the Hood, trying to force every ounce of utter fury into that stare. Scott swallowed another yell at the sight of his father, practically trembling with rage, but stoic. That's what Scott had to be too. Help was on the way, it had to be by now, they couldn't let the Hood get to them. Then John let out a yell. It was a desperate cry that tore Scott's heart in two. The astronaut slumped unconscious, the pain finally proving to be too much.

The Hood looked down at John's limp form, disappointed that his test subject was no longer with them. He sighed. "One down, one to go…" he muttered quietly, nudging John with his foot.

Jeff tensed, eyes flickering towards Scott. As much as he knew how strong his eldest was, and that he could handle it, it didn't make it any less painful. "No…" Jeff said softly, eyes travelling back to where John lay on the floor. His son was bruised, burned, and bleeding because of _him_. Because Jeff was so selfish that he praised the Thunderbirds importance higher than his own _children._ But he didn't, not really, they were his everything – it was just the two went hand in hand. If he gave up _anything_ , then his other children were at risk.

As strong as Scott thought he was being, Jeff was barely hanging on. The co-ordinates for the base were practically hanging off his tongue. He couldn't stand this; it was more of a nightmare than any of the past weeks. Jeff Tracy didn't have many weaknesses; in fact, he liked to think he had only five. But now two of them were here, and it was _killing_ him to see this. Yet all he could muster was a simple _no_.

"Oh?" The Hood swirled around, one eyebrow arched in question. " _No?_ All through our time here together, I don't think I've ever heard you utter that word."

Scott watched his father carefully, but he said nothing more. That tiny word, the small and broken _no_ , was the only weakness he was willing to show. Scott smiled at him tiredly; he was _not_ looking forward to round two. But as long as it kept the Hood away from John, then that was fine.

But the Hood was becoming impatient; Scott could see it in the way his fingers danced across his dagger. Those amber eyes were filled with frustration at not getting what he wanted. He truly thought he had them, but that was not entirely the case. The Hood snapped his fingers at no one in particular. Somehow the man behind Scott knew what to do, and the eldest was shoved harshly to his knees.

Jeff looked away; he couldn't do this, not anymore.

Before the Hood could get to Scott a henchman burst into the room, panicked and out of breath. He raced towards his boss and began whispering at him. The Hood's head snapped up, an enraged fire filling those amber eyes. " _What?_ " he hissed, one simple word filled with so much venom. "That can't _be."_

The Henchman was muttering something else, his words rushed and frantic. Scott and Jeff met one another's eyes in cautious triumph. Perhaps the Global Defense force had arrived. If that was the case, Virgil had pulled through. Scott knew that he would of course; his brother never let him down. The thought of seeing him again was instantly comforting, slowing Scott's agitated heartrate, though he certainly hope Virgil hadn't come _with_ the defense force.

"Sound the alarm," the Hood barked with more emotion than he had ever allowed to grace his voice. "Code red, move everybody out. Get the designs, and as much gear as possible, put it in the new hub ship. You-" he jabbed a finger towards the henchman holding John. "Take him in the C2 and meet us at rendezvous point. I'll take these two with me – it seems we have an intruder boys, sorry to break this little session up."

Scott's agitation instantly returned at the thought of being separated from John. " _No_ you can't-" he kicked out violently behind him to try and catch the henchman off guard. The man only tightened his grip on Scott, twisting his arm. Hissing, Scott resorted to struggling instead.

The Hood was in no mood for time wasting. He pulled his own gun from his waist line and pressed it against Scott's temple. " _Stop_. Unless you want your brains on the wall, I would do as you're told."

Scott shook his head, continuing to struggle. "You wouldn't _kill me."_

"Oh? Do you want to test that theory?" The Hood cocked his gun.

" _Scott…_ " Jeff warned, locking eyes with his son. Breathing heavily, Scott felt himself cease struggling under his father's gaze. It wasn't a cold stare, or an angry one, but pleading. _Don't test him, for my sake._ Scott bit his lip, eyes darting to John. If the global defense force were really here, then he would be ok. They would be reunited soon.

A screeching alarm blared out of nowhere. John's eyes flickered open at the sound, blinking in confusion. But Scott had no time to say anything to his brother. The Hood barked an order of _move_ to the henchmen. Jeff pulled away, his eyes never leaving John. Scott was practically dragged from his spot, wildly trying to get back to his brother.

John blinked, and they were gone. His father was being taken away from him again, and there was nothing he could do about it. Flashes of hot pain coursed through his arm, making his head spin. Every time the astronaut shifted his ribs protested wildly. Nausea rolled over him and he felt himself slipping. But _no,_ John still had to try; he couldn't just go with this man. He had to delay him long enough for the defense force to get there.

The henchman holding John pulled him roughly to his feet. John's legs trembled, sparks of light dancing in front of his eyes. He pretended to slump forward as though losing consciousness again. The hands on his arms loosened with a begrudging sigh. John took the opportunity and wrenched his arm from the grasp. With a startled cry, the Henchman let go. John fell to the ground, quickly turning himself on to his back. He kicked outward into the man's shin. The henchman stumbled backwards, surprised by the strength in the attack.

John would have smiled if it wasn't for the throb of pain that racked his entire body when he moved. Weakly, he tried to shuffle backwards, but the henchman was having none of it. Growling, the man reached for his gun. He clicked the bullets into place and pointed it directly towards John's forehead. "Don't _move_ Tracy. You try anything like that again, you're dead."

John rolled his eyes, mockingly raising his arms in surrender. He hissed as this movement revived the burning ripples still prickling at his skin. Cradling that arm close, he sighed. He could still do this; he just needed to catch the henchman off guard…

The door to the room swung open.

John groaned inwardly. Two more of the cronies entered. Now how was John supposed to have a fair chance? The answer was simple; he wasn't. Shivering, he attempted to climb back up to his feet. "Stay _down_ ," the original henchman ordered, studying these new ones with interest. "What do you want? Haven't you heard the alarm, we're sposed to be-" The henchman's words cut short. With a spluttering gasp he keeled forward, gun clattering to the floor.

Heart racing, John attempted to whirl around and see who had done it. A ripping sensation in his ribs forced him to cry out instead. He cursed loudly, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Language," an all too familiar voice entered his foggy mind. Oh crap, he _had_ come with the Global Defense force. Opening his eyes, sure enough, John found his immediate younger brother rushing over to him. The sense of relief John felt was alleviating, his heart lifting to what felt like oblivion. Virgil had discarded the henchman helmet, replacing it with the much scarier expression of brother nurse. His heavy eyebrows were drawn together as though he himself was in agony at seeing John like this. "Oh my god…" he muttered, large hand automatically reaching for the arm John was cradling. " _John_ did he do this to you?"

"Don't worry about me, not yet," John urged. As much as he wanted to yell and cheer at Virgil's timely arrival, there were more important things at stake. "The Hood has Dad and Scott, you need to tell-"

"Dad?" Virgil's dark eyes widened, the desperate look of a child dancing back into them.

"Yes Dad he's here, he's alright…well, he's not alright…but h-he's _walking."_ John paused as his ribs decided to shift, making him breathless. "Tell the Defense force to go after them, they just left-"

"What way did they go?" The other henchman lifted off his helmet.

John felt his mouth slip open. _No._ " _Gordon?_ What the-"

"What way did they _go?_ " Gordon repeated his question with no less fervor. He was rocking back and forward, eyes darting frantically back toward the door.

"Down…the tunnel…to the hubship," John answered slowly, sending a confused look to Virgil. Why was _Gordon_ here? The global defense force would never let someone his age, nor in his condition, go with them. It would be a stretch to let Virgil go. John felt his heart sink as realization dawned. "The GD isn't here are they? You came down here alone…" John closed his eyes, a rush of dizziness charging into him. His eyelids flickered, background noise growing muffled.

Virgil bit his lip, firmly grasping John's shoulders. Gordon addressed Virgil calmly. "It's bad huh?"

"Mostly surface wounds but yeah, pretty damn bad."

"Ok, well you get Johnny out of here Virg. I'm going after them."

Virgil froze and turned around slowly. "Gordon don't you dare-"

But Gordon was gone before he finished his sentence. The aquanaut had simply studied John with anguish, then turned around, and left. Virgil stared after him, eyes wide. "No, no _Gordon!_ Get back here! _"_ he yelled.

Even the desperation in his voice wasn't enough to draw Gordon back to them. He would not let the Hood take away his father again.

ooooo

Gordon raced away from his brothers. It should have been hard for him, but it wasn't. John was in the most capable hands with Virgil, and the medic would never leave him alone. That meant he couldn't come after Gordon. Frankly, racing away from the calm influence of Virgil was somewhat liberating.

It was also extremely dangerous.

Gordon knew that, and he didn't care. He was solely focused on two things; Dad and _Scott._ Seeing John in his state had fueled the fire inside Gordon like no other thing could. _Nobody_ hurt John, and _nobody_ messed up his face. Gordon snarled at nothing, feet pounding hard against the ground. The Hood was taking them to his hubship, that's what John had said, he was planning on taking them away again. This time Gordon was going to stop it, no matter what the consequences.

Act now, think later. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.

He swerved down a corner in a disorientated rage, not really caring what direction he was going in. He would get to them, no matter what. Breathing heavily the second youngest urged his tired body to go faster. He had pushed himself to extremes before during swimming; it was just like that again. All he had to do was push himself.

Darting down another corner, Gordon almost ran into two henchmen. Without thinking he fired the tranquilizer blindly at them before pushing past. Their bodies thumped onto the ground behind him, but Gordon didn't look back. He couldn't look back. All he was seeing was red, a fiery rage that consumed his very being. Soon he would face the man that was the source of all that, and Gordon wasn't sure what he would do.

He _wanted_ to kill him. He wanted the Hood to feel the pain that he had felt losing Jeff. But would that make Gordon just as bad as that monster? Wanting him to feel pain, did that mean they were alike in some way? Gordon brushed the thought aside. It wasn't important now. The tunnel Gordon was in had started sloping upwards. He turned around a bend just in time to see a henchman exit through one of the doors.

Racing towards it, the aquanaut didn't even hesitate before he flung it open. The sound of the alarm was drowning out any loud movements he made. Gordon was surprised when he was hit by direct sunlight, eyes protesting by the sudden and unwanted exposure. Squinting, he realised that somehow part of the golf course above the tunnels had slid open, much like how the pool disappeared into the deck when 'One was launched.

Spying a pile of unused crates near the door, Gordon ducked behind them quickly to figure out a game plan. The Hood's hubship was sat in the middle of the room, the metal on her reflecting rays of light in various directions. From where he crouched, figures started to come into focus. Two henchmen and the Hood were roughly dragging his family towards the ship. There was Scott's tall form and then… Gordon felt his breath catch in his throat, suddenly realizing that the thin figure next to Scott was his _father._ Gordon's fingers clenched tightly to the tranquilizer.

He was so _close_ to him. Gordon had done what he had promised; he had gone out and found Jeff, but now he had to fulfill that to the end. He had to get him _home_ , no matter what, and in a couple more steps he was going to be on the Hood's plane.

He watched as Scott attempted to break away from his captor. He got one hand free and sent it flying into the Henchman's shoulder. The henchman doubled backward, but recovered himself quickly enough to retaliate. His fist flew into Scott's jaw, knocking him to the ground.

Gordon tensed.

The figures stopped moving. The Hood rotated himself, a look of utter exasperation on his face. "Scott Tracy," he drawled nasally. "This really is urgent. And if you can't play along, then I'm going to have to do something about that."

"Oh yeah?" Scott spat, words filled with the exact fire that was fueling Gordon. "Well _do_ something about it then. Because I'm not getting on that bloody ship."

The Hood shrugged casually, took a step backward, and pointed a gun at Scott's forehead. "Alright then.

I do have John after all. I suppose I don't need you both."

It was the sudden insouciance about Scott's life that had Gordon seething. For a moment, he thought the Hood was just bluffing. But his finger was clearly on the trigger…

" _No!"_ Jeff's cry was quicker than Gordon's reaction, but he was still pretty damn quick.

Gordon darted out from behind the crates, not really caring about having a plan. Blinded by rage he shot one of the henchmen in the back, the dart flying right between his shoulder blades, before diving forward and shoving his brother to the ground. Scott let out a cry of a surprise as his body thudded into the ground. At the same time that Gordon dove, the Hood's gun went off, missing them by a millimeter.

With no time to think, Gordon rolled off of Scott and aimed for the second henchman. He lined the shot up and sent it flying without a second glance. Belatedly, Gordon hoped he didn't accidentally hit his father. Finally he turned to the Hood, adrenaline rushing through his body making his hands shake.

Those amber eyes met his, widening in surprise and recognition, just as Gordon pulled his trigger.

Nothing happened. It was just an empty click into the open space. Looking down at his gun, he realised he had used all the darts. _Shit._

The Hood began to laugh. Entirely without humour, it was a cold, and merciless chuckle. He had his gun now trained in Gordon's direction. The way his forced smile twitched was the only thing that let the game away. The Hood was annoyed, more than that, he was surprised. Gordon quickly scrambled to his feet. He pulled his own gun – his last lifeline - from his waist, and met the Hood with an equally deadly stare. They were at a stalemate.

Scott was panting heavily, pushing himself back to his feet. Gordon had knocked more out of him than he thought. When he looked up, all Gordon saw was fear, and fear was not something that often graced those eyes. Scott held out both hands, one in the Hood's direction, the other in Gordon's. "What the- Wait, hang on now-"

"Stay down Scott," Gordon snapped, too focused on the man in front of him. The gun shook as his arm trembled involuntarily. "Put the gun _down_ Hood, or I shoot."

"Gordon…" Jeff exhaled slowly, without warning he stumbled to one knee. It was all too much for him. Gordon couldn't look at his father. If he did, then there was no stopping the emotions he had been trying to keep at bay. If Gordon saw what the Hood had done to him then nobody would stop him from pulling this trigger.

"Well, hasn't this become a nice family affair?" The Hood's hand never shivered, just as his gaze never wavered. He wasn't the least bit threatened by Gordon's words either. "What a surprise. I suppose this is _Alan_ …is it?" A twitch of the lips and the Hood's smile turned into a sneer.

Gordon narrowed his eyes. The Hood knew who he was, he was just baiting him. "No, I'm Virgil," he replied coldly.

The Hood dipped his head ever so slightly in acknowledgement. "I guess it doesn't matter what name you pick, you'll always just be the son that hides in his brothers shadows. Isn't that right Jeff? Is that what you told me?"

Gordon tried to keep his breathing in check. The man was just trying to provoke him, he needed to stay calm. If Gordon shot first and missed, or broke away, than the Hood would get the upper hand. So Gordon kept his eyes on the Hood, barely registering his father's shake of the head. "No that's not-"

"Come now Jeff…" the Hood tutted quietly. "I think the word was expendable, am I right? You said I wouldn't want him because he's expendable to you."

Gordon's jaw hardened. " _Shut up._ "

"Oh, touched a nerve with that one did I? Well, it was nice you came gallivanting in here trying to help, but you haven't exactly made the situation any better-"

"This isn't a goddamn _counselling session,_ " Gordon yelled, heart racing. _Ignore him, he's lying, Dad would never say that…_ "I said put the _gun_ down or I'll shoot."

"Gords-" Scott warned. Gordon could feel his brother edging closer towards him, a ready hand outstretched. Gordon snapped at him to stay back.

"I mean, it's rather obvious who the most disappointing son is. People don't even remember your _name._ I saw an article marveling about Jeff Tracy's _four_ sons-"

"Shut _up,"_ Gordon growled. Who was this man to do this? He was _nothing_ , a monster, a torturer, nothing more. Gordon wouldn't let his words get to him. "I swear to you I will _fire_ if you do not put that gun down."

The Hood chuckled, eyes flickering in a malicious delight. "I very much doubt that. Even if you do, I'm sure my reaction time and aim is equally quick. If you shoot, so do I, we both go down…But if you lower _your_ weapon, then we can go about this in a gentlemanly manner-"

"Gentlemanly?" Gordon hissed, taking a step towards the Hood so that he was out of Scott's reach. Scott was murmuring something to him, but Gordon didn't want to hear it. Gordon couldn't hear it over the rage pounding in his head. "You'd shoot us both and keep Dad. How chivalrous of you. _"_

The Hood didn't say anything, he just smiled.

Gordon's entire body was shaking as the wrath began to build. "Oh _no,_ I don't want to shoot you, I want you to fucking _suffer!_ Like John has, like my _father has."_

"Gordon-" Scott was pleading now, desperately trying to maneuver himself in front of both the gun lines. But this time Gordon wouldn't let him be in front, this time Gordon was going to take it.

"You took away _everything_ from me! You were the _cause_ of failed rescues; of lost lives. Y _ou_ were the one that was tearing our family apart. We're just an organization that wants to _help_ , but you- you can't l-let us do _that_ without ruining everything. But I can stop it…" Gordon's eyes flickered briefly to the gun in his shaking hand. He _could_ stop it. He could stop it all, right now, in this very instant. The Hood would fire back, but so _what_? Gordon could sacrifice himself for the greater good. The Hood would be gone; their father would be back…he would have kept his promise. He swallowed, "I can stop you, right now."

"You'll die before I do," the Hood said sinisterly, lip curling. But Gordon saw the flash of worry cross his face. Never underestimate a Tracy, that was the number one rule. "Put it down."

" _Gordon_ , son, do as he says and put the gun down," Jeff's words finally broke through to him. There was something about hearing his voice that made Gordon smile. But it wasn't the usual rich and calm tones, no, this was frantic and weak. Gordon gritted his teeth. That's what the Hood had forced his father to be, _weak._ "Gordon please listen to me - we can figure this out, you just need to-"

But Gordon didn't listen; he held the gun higher, a determined look on his face. "I'll do it," he whispered.

The Hood met him with a disbelieving stare. Gordon gritted his teeth. For once, he really would help his family. Gordon wouldn't be the liability, not anymore. "I'll do it…" he repeated softly, eyes meeting Scott's for one last time.

So, for his family, he did.

Gordon pointed and fired at the exact time as the Hood. The Hood's expression of shock alone was worth pulling the trigger. Gordon recoiled back with the force of the gun. No, that wasn't the only reason he was recoiling back.

It wasn't so much the pain, but the shock that truly got him. A dull ache formed in his chest, and Gordon found himself stumbling backwards. Everything sounded so loud, every step he took as he fell reverberated around his brain. Somebody was yelling. A tall figure was running, not towards Gordon, but away from him…Scott…where was he going? _Don't leave me alone._

A loud buzz zipped through his brain and everything switched off. It was completely silent. Silence had always terrified Gordon, why was it silent now? Oh god, he didn't want to be alone. _Why had Scott left?_ Gordon tried to reach out for something, but everything seemed to be moving so slowly…he brought a hand up to his chest and coughed, feeling liquid pool in his mouth.

But then a face peered over his, a strong hand putting pressure on his chest. Jeff looked so tired, so _thin_ , but he was there and that was all that mattered. He was yelling something at Gordon, but he couldn't hear. It was all muffled and foggy…

Gordon smiled at him. Pain induced tears filled his eyes, but he smiled. The aquanaut always knew that he would smile when he was dying, that was just the way to go. Preferably it would have been when he was old, surrounded by grandkids – or maybe just great nephews and nieces. But this would have to do.

Gordon had done it, he had got Jeff back. Just seeing his father's face now brought so much happiness back into his world, and he knew that he would get the others back on track. Now International Rescue could go back to usual. The Hood was gone; he would no longer torment them, Gordon had done that for his family, he had _finally_ helped.

He closed his eyes, slipping into darkness with a smile on his face.

ooooo

 _Note: Now…If I just said 'the end' how would you all feel? No, I'm just kidding, that would be a horrible thing to do. Wow, I just realised I have been really mean to the boys…will I be nicer in the next chapter? Who knows…hope you enjoyed, next one should be up soon!_


	12. Chapter 12

Scott ran faster than he ever had in his life. As a frequent runner this was quite a claim to make, but if he didn't go fast, the Hood would get away again. Scott couldn't let that happen. Not now, not _ever._

Gordon had missed. The bullet he fired had grazed the man's shoulder but hadn't done enough damage to knock him down. It _had_ been enough to force his gun out of his hand, but not before he could fire the fatal shot. With both Scott and his father distracted by Gordon the Hood saw his opportunity and took it, racing toward the ramp to the hubship.

All Scott had to see was Gordon fall. He was torn between running to his fallen brother or after the man who had tortured his family. Hearing Jeff's cries for Gordon to stay with them pushed Scott over the edge. He grew numb. All he could do was power after this man with nothing but hatred circling his veins.

The Hood had almost reached the ramp to his ship, but he was slowed by the wound in his shoulder. His footing stumbled and Scott began to close the gap. Adrenaline practically burst from his skin as he pushed himself harder. Finally, the Hood was in reach. Without even hesitating Scott lunged forward, his hands grappling at the man's shirt, shoving him harshly into the ground.

The Hood's eyes opened wide in shock as he was flung onto the concrete, head whacking on the hard surface. Scott lifted him by his collar, slamming him back down onto the floor. The Hood gasped, eyes flashing wildly. "You know what I told you before you _bastard?_ Well I bloody _meant it._ " Scott's fist collided with the Hood's nose. He dug his knee into the man's chest to stomach, pinning him to the ground.

Coughing wildly, the Hood managed a mirthless cackle. "Are you going to kill me Scott? You're not a _killer._ "

Anger pulsed through Scott as he lifted his arm again threateningly.

A gruesome smile tugged at the Hood's lips, "But _I_ am…One down, four to go-"

Scott's fist flew forward, colliding with a sickening crunch. He lifted and threw it again, trying to put all of his weight behind the blow. Gordon was _not_ dead. When Scott turned around, he would be smiling and laughing, just like old times. His brother would brush everything away with a quick line of wit and everything would be ok. The frantic voice of his father in the background grew muffled as anger consumed Scott's very being. His hand shook as he lashed out again. And again. And again. The Hood's movements grew still, his breathing shallow, but Scott couldn't stop. He didn't _want_ to stop. Panting heavily, Scott hit out again, he would finish what Gordon started. This man wouldn't hurt his family anymore; he wouldn't hurt anyone ever again…

Arms wrapped tightly around Scott and roughly pulled him to his feet. Scott tried to fight back, struggling against the arms, but they held tight. _No,_ the Hood was still breathing, he was still _dangerous._ "Hey, Scott! Stop," Virgil's low voice entered his subconscious. _Where had he come from?_ "You need to calm down-"

"No I won't _bloody_ calm down!" Scott kicked Virgil in the knee, he had to _finish this._ Virgil held tight, he was used to these rare moments of flammable rage.

"Scotty, please, the Hood isn't going anywhere like that," Virgil said softly, words barely a murmur by his ear. "You have to calm down-"

"H-he's killed Gordon Virg, oh _god…_ " Scott's struggling ceased as panic and grief fought anger, chilling him to the very bone. "I was right there and I didn't do anything…but I can do something now and I need to-"

"Snap out of it Scott. Gordon's not dead," Virgil's words were firm but not unkind. He loosened his grip on Scott, swooping around to look him in the eye. "Not _yet._ He's _hurt_ and Dad's putting pressure on it. But I have to go to him and I need you to _help me._ "

Scott didn't move his eyes from Virgil. Under the calming gaze of his brother, his breathing evened. _Get it together Scott_. _You're needed._ "R-right…sorry. What do you need?"

"First, I need you to look after John. We'll go from there." Virgil squeezed his shoulder. He allowed only a brief moment of worry to flitter through his eyes before snapping into medic mode. He turned around swiftly, not even bothering to check if Scott was following him. Virgil knew that all Scott needed was to hear John's name and his focus would immediately shift.

And so it did. _John._ Thoughts of revenge were washed away by the sudden concern for Scott's closest brother. He started to run again, racing back to his family whom he shouldn't have left in the first place. Jeff had both his hands on Gordon's chest, face deathly pale from what had just occurred, but his eyes were hard in a fierce determination. He would not lose anyone again, not today, hopefully not ever.

Scott watched as Virgil ducked down next to his father. As much as he desperately wanted to, the artist hadn't even said a proper hello. There were more important things at stake. Besides, Virgil had to be a medic right now, not a son. He started barking orders in Jeff's direction and their father immediately followed. All Scott saw was a lot of blood. A _lot._ But even with his brother's blood on his hand, Virgil was calm. Scott had never appreciated him more than in that moment. He was every bit the composed leader that Scott should have been.

Scott had his orders, so he looked away from Gordon, convincing himself everything would be ok because he was in such capable hands. John on the other hand…he looked terrible. Face gaunt and pale, eyes dark and anguished, John almost resembled an old man in the yellowing light. Scott thought if he even touched him he would break. The astronaut had been placed on the ground near the doorway, obviously cast off by Virgil in the urgency of the situation. Scott ran over to him.

John lifted his head as though it weighed more than life. But his thin lips pulled etched into a frown. "No…help _him_ …" he murmured, eyes somewhat vacant.

Scott attempted a reassuring smile but felt none of the emotions that were meant to go with it. "Virgil's got him, I promise." He ducked down to John's level and tried to see what needed to be seen to first. But _hell,_ there were bruises and dry blood splattered all over his pale skin. It was all surface wounds, but no less painful. John still had one arm hovering over his ribs. Scott bit his lip in concern. That could definitely be a problem. The skin on his left arm was raw and blistered; Scott gently reached out to examine it. "Jeez Johnny – " a thousand words of praise and concern stuck in Scott's throat.

As though reading his mind, John gave a brief shake of his head. "Don't go all suffocating on me Scott, I'm going to be fine. H-help Gordon…" the breathlessness of his words was not comforting. But Scott's gaze did travel back to his injured brother, where Virgil was now looking panicked.

Scott's heart drummed against his chest. Sensing the need to help, he spoke up, managing to draw his tone back to one of commander. Maybe that would help. "What's the situation Virgil?"

"It's bad. Worse than I thought; we need to get him to 'Two's medbay _now_. But we can't move him without a stretcher. It's too dangerous. The Defense force medics won't be here in time so I need you to go and get as much damn medical gear as you can carry. I can try and stabilize him from there...but then we'll need to get proper treatment."

Scott tried to hide the way his heart twisted at the simple words " _it's bad_ ". His voice quivered. "Oh…but Virg did you…where is…?"

"Are the Thunderbirds near?" Jeff voiced the question he knew Scott was trying to ask.

Virgil looked at his father as though only just realizing he was there. The realization and shock of that quickly vanished as the artist remembered his urgency. Without directly answering Jeff, Virgil raised his wrist and spoke quickly. "Alan, come in, are you reading me?"

 _Alan?_ No, no…Scott was tempted to close his eyes. Alan could _not_ be here as well. In the rush of events Scott had entirely forgotten about his baby brother. That wasn't bad, because then he didn't have to worry about him. _Now_ , however, he had to worry about him too. Again, Jeff voiced what Scott couldn't. "Al? No…Virgil, he can't be here too why did-"

Virgil raised a hand to stop his father talking. Alan's voice returned with rushed words. " _Virg, is everything ok? I see lots of vehicles taking off; those masked guys are spilling out of the place. Have you found them? Is Dad-"_

"Alan," Virgil interrupted sharply. "I'll answer everything later but this is an emergency. You know how you said you wanted to fly 'Two? Well I need you to bring her around really close to the entrance. Can you do that for me?"

There was a brief moment of silence. Probably shocked silence, considering the fact that Virgil _never_ let Alan drive 'Two. " _Yes, I can do that_." The word 'emergency' had pushed Alan to his mature zone. " _I'll do that now_."

"Good, Scott will meet you." Virgil signed off quickly. "There's no time to explain," he snapped at both Scott and Jeff's mirrored expressions of reprimand. Why in seven _hells_ would Virgil bring Alan? Bringing Gordon was bad enough. "Dad, you need to help me with Gordon. Scott, you need to run. Got it? John…you just sit tight bud."

Jeff gave a brief, surprised nod, at the commanding tone. Scott got to his feet in a heartbeat, sending a comforting look towards John. _I'll be back._ His brother just shrugged weakly. Gordon was _far_ more important.

"Scott if you see any henchman along the way, shoot them. I don't even care," Virgil ordered abruptly, pointing to the gun he had left with John. Scott had no reservations about picking it up.

Scott looked over to where the bloodied mess of the Hood was lying. "What about-"

"Let the GD deal with it when they get here," Virgil ordered. "Go now. _Quickly._ "

ooooo

The pure elation Alan felt at seeing Scott emerge from the shack was quickly squashed by the look of utter panic replacing his brother's usual composure. Instantly, Alan knew that something had gone terribly wrong. Various scenarios flickered through his mind. Had John been hurt? Was Jeff seriously injured? He raced toward the entrance and was almost barreled over as Scott barged through, heading straight towards the infirmary. Alan was startled at the abruptness, his nerves heightening.

"Scott what's happened?" he raced after his brother in leaps instead of steps.

Scott was tearing emergency packs off the shelves. It was his frantic movements that were truly frightening. Instead of answering, Scott thrust gear into Alan's arms. "Hold these," he barked, eyes darting around the room. "Crap, where's the rebreather?"

"Here," Alan was quick to pick it up, heart pounding against his chest. _What had happened? What was going on?_ He had so many questions but knew better than to ask them. This was an emergency situation and for once, he would do as was asked and nothing more.

"We need the stretcher too. Can you carry those?"

Alan nodded, clutching tightly to the medical gear. This was bad. Scott pulled the hover stretcher from its attachments on the wall and made to walk out again. Alan assumed that he wanted him to follow, but something held him still. "Wait - Scott, do you want me to come with you? It's dangerous to just leave Two here, isn't it? Where am I needed most?" Alan swallowed. As much as he wanted to go and to know what was happening, if they needed him here then he would stay. He wouldn't be selfish, not this time.

Scott paused, turning to Alan with a pained expression. He hadn't even _thought_ about the Thunderbird, that's how stressed his mind had become. But here Alan was thrown into the deep end and still clutching threads of common sense. As a commander, Scott knew what decision he would make. As a brother, he overwrote that decision. "We need you with us, ok? Two will be fine, the Hood can't get her. Just stick by me and keep up."

Alan gave a quick nod and did as he was told. He didn't dare drop any of the equipment he was holding, not if this was a life and death situation. Scott moved quickly out of the plane and headed directly back towards the tunnel. Alan had watched a bunch of the guards leave the small building, so he wasn't afraid of meeting resistance. He _was_ afraid of what he might find down there. Tentatively, he decided to try again, unable to keep the quaver from his words, "…Scott? Did…did you find Dad?"

Scott's voice was barely a whisper, "yes."

Alan didn't allow himself to feel relieved, not _yet._ Not if that was just going to be taken away from him. In fact the idea barely registered in his mind. Something bad had happened, there was no relief to be felt. "…he's hurt really bad, isn't he?"

Scott shook his head silently, footsteps quickening. "No Al, it's…" he sighed heavily. They turned sharply down a corner. "It's Gordon. He's been shot."

With those three words they descended into silence. It was only the sound of their feet crunching on dirt that indicated there were any presences around at all. Alan didn't understand. _What?_ "I don't understand…what do you mean? _No._ H-how?"

"There's nothing to understand! He was _shot_ by the Hood," Scott snapped, practically breaking into a run. "We've got to get this to him. _Now._ "

Alan hurried his steps. Feeling his breathing quicken, he clutched tightly to the bags he was holding. Panic began to rise in his chest. _No._ Gordon had been _shot?_ That couldn't _happen_. No doubt he had been trying to save one of the others… Meanwhile Alan had been sitting in a Thunderbird, twiddling his thumbs and waiting for news. "S-scott…"

Scott didn't need to hear Alan's question. "I don't _know_ Alan! I don't know if he's going to be alright!"

The pure and utter distress that filled Scott's words was not what Alan wanted to hear. But at least he was being honest; he wasn't trying to protect him from the truth, nor had he left him behind in Two to be sheltered. Alan bit his tongue and stayed quiet. A vicious determination seeped in with the panic he was feeling. Alan would save his brother. He didn't know how, but he would, even if it just meant flying the Thunderbird to the hospital. Any little thing that mattered, Alan would do it.

The thought of repeating these past weeks without Gordon was unthinkable; it was _unbearable_ , it was impossible. Repeating them _forever?_ No, Alan wouldn't last. It shook him to his very core to know that his ally in life was fighting for his. He didn't even take in his surroundings as they moved down the long and seemingly endless corridors. All Alan saw was his brother, bleeding, dying…

Scott pushed open a door and barged into a room. Alan quickly followed, out of breath and filled with dread. Virgil leapt to his feet at the entrance. With no greeting, or even recognition of Alan's presence, he ordered for the gear to be brought towards him. The medical bags slipped from Alan's grasp on seeing Gordon laying there, his blood staining Virgil's hands. Alan swallowed a sob, unable to move from his spot. On seeing his inaction, Scott raced back over, only to gather the medical bags in his arms and whisk them away. The eldest knelt next to Virgil and allowed himself to be directed.

Alan looked away. He _had_ to look away or his emotion would consume him. But when he did look away, he was not met with a more comforting sight. No, he was met with a picture of John barely conscious by the doorway, a man leaning over him…

Alan gasped. It was all too much.

That man was Jeff, and he knew it was Jeff, but something inside Alan didn't want to believe it. Even when thoughts of death had plagued Alan's mind, he had still pictured his father as the strong man he always knew, whole, and unafraid. This man looked very afraid. Alan let out a sob. Standing in the middle of the room he was completely helpless. What could he possibly do? While all this was going on he had done _nothing_ , now that he was here he was still lost.

"Al…" Jeff's voice was the same. Alan looked up, startled, expecting the old picture of his father to return in an instant. He didn't return, but Alan found parts of the father he knew in that stare. That was all he needed. Breaking into a run the youngest Tracy launched himself in his father's direction. Jeff exhaled quickly on impact, but was no less strong in the hug he pulled Alan into. "It's ok, everything's going to be ok…" he repeated the words over and over, as much for his own benefit as for Alan.

Alan couldn't fight the tears that had been threatening for a while. "I-I thought you were gone, and then Gordon l-left us, and then Scott did too and everyone was going. Now you're here but…but…"

"Shh, I know…" Jeff's hand stroked Alan's hair. No matter how old he got he would always be Jeff's baby. So would Gordon. "I promise no one's going to leave anymore. We'll be together again…he'll be alright, I know he will be-"

Alan sniffed. He remained in his father's embrace for a long while, neither one of them wanting to let go. But Alan knew that he had to, someone needed Jeff more than he did. "Y-you should go to him, I…I can't but you should. He listens to you, he always has, tell him to stay with us. _Please._ Make him ok."

"Gordon? _Listening_?" Jeff whispered faintly. His grip loosened as he looked over Alan's shoulder at his fallen son. Locking his youngest with a stare that they all knew and loved, Jeff spoke, "Alright, I'll make him stay, he's got no other option. As long as you stay over here with John, alright? Just keep talking to him. That's really important Allie, can you do that?"

Wiping his eyes, Alan nodded, not wanting his father to leave. But he did. He had to. Alan's time with him could wait; now that he was back with them they had a _lot_ of time. All thanks to Gordon. _But how much time would they have with him…_

"I'm getting passed around the family…" John muttered quietly. He attempted to shift his position against the wall, but stopped suddenly as it proved painful. Alan got down to his brothers level, trying not to look too hard at the array of bruises that caressed John's face. A thin cut was clear on his cheek. Alan reached out a hand to touch it, but John's fingers clasped his wrist before he could do so. "Why does everyone keep doing that?"

"Sorry…" Alan pulled back, unsure at how he was supposed to help his brother. The Hood had done this to him. Alan couldn't quite comprehend what had happened…it was all too overwhelming. "Does it…where does it hurt?"

 _"_ _Everywhere_ ," John narrowed his eyes, gaze softening on seeing Alan's lip tremble. He sighed, "I'm alright Al."

"No you're not," Alan's tried to push past the lump in his throat. "You always hate it when everyone else says they're fine when they _aren't_. Nobody's alright Johnny! Dad's not alright, I'm not alright, Scott's not alright….Gordon's…he's…Just don't lie to me John!"

John reached out a hand and squeezed Alan's. It wasn't usual for John to initiate physical contact unless something really was wrong, so it didn't exactly comfort the youngest. Those blue eyes shimmered sadly, the emotional torture far worse than the physical ever could be. "Just find me painkillers and distract me from the fact Gords is lying over there with a bullet in his chest."

Alan winced. He wanted to be distracted from that too. Behind him he could hear Virgil snapping orders at the others. When the middle brother was frantic that only meant one thing; they were running out of time.

ooooo

Virgil looked down at his hands and saw dried blood. He didn't even know whose blood it _was_ , it could have been John's, or Scott's, maybe even Jeff's. It didn't matter whose it was anymore. It was drowned out by Gordon's.

He looked so much smaller lying on the cold ground. Virgil had really never noticed how little he was. With such a big personality the aquanaut made up for his small stature. But when he was quiet, pale, bleeding…all Virgil wanted to do was rewind time and leave Gordon behind. But he couldn't change that now; all he could do was try and heal him.

Scott was keeping Gordon's head still, making sure the rebreather covered his mouth and nose. The steady sound of his brother inhaling was rhythmic - like the ticks on a metronome - and it calmed Virgil down. Jeff was on the phone the Colonel Casey, one hand holding the device, the other clutching at Gordon's hand. Every now and then Jeff would take the phone away and make a comment to Gordon as though he was there with them, listening with that cocky grin on his face.

Virgil on the other hand was busy. He knew how dangerous chest wounds could be. The bullet had entered on the right side of the chest – which meant that in fact Gordon's reaction time _was_ faster than the Hood's, but his aim was as bad as it was with the tranquilizer. Just because it wasn't on the left side near his heart didn't mean the danger was any less. Open chest wounds suck in air, and could lead to a collapsed lung. That was just one of the various problems ticking over in his mind. More importantly, the bullet hadn't _exited_ Gordon's body, which meant it could be lodged somewhere like a blood vessel, or his freaking _spine._ Virgil would never say that out loud. The idea that this might cause _more_ injury to Gordons back just brought up too many painful memories.

Virgil's hands shook as he gently placed the last piece of medical tape over the gauze. He had done what he could to keep air from getting into the pleural space, making a valve-like covering so that it could escape the wound, but not get back in.

But now he had done _that,_ Virgil was torn. They had to get him back to Thunderbird Two. It was the only option to get to a hospital in enough time. But if the bullet _was_ lodged in his spine, movement was a terrible idea. The _worst_ idea in fact. Especially considering his pre-existing injuries. They could wait until the GD arrived but…

Jeff ended the call. He knew what Virgil was going to ask him. "They're still half an hour away."

Virgil's fingers wrapped around his brother's wrist. He pressed lightly to feel his pulse. Jeff and Scott were watching him in complete silence, smart enough to know not to disturb Virgil while he was working this out. _Shit._ His pulse was speeding up. If it was weakening it would have been an even worse sign, but faster pulse meant possible internal bleeding. _No, no, no_ …Virgil made an executive decision. A dead brother was worse than a paralyzed one. Gordon might not see it that way, but Virgil was willing to take that risk. Gordon had to face risk of paralyses before and he had got through it. He _always_ got through it. "Alright, we're moving out. Scott you have to keep his neck still. I'll support his torso, Dad you get his legs. On my count we shift him to the stretcher. No hesitating, it has to be quick or we might cause something serious. Got it? Good…ok 3…2…"

Virgil held his breath as they moved him. He should have known to trust his father and brother to do as they were asked. Gordon was placed gently onto the hover stretcher without a hitch. Virgil breathed out, barely keeping a lid on his own panic. But he knew he had to or everything would fall apart. "Ok I've got the front, Scott you guide the back. Don't bump it against anything, don't trip, and don't make the movements jolty. Dad-" Virgil snapped his fingers towards John. "Help _him._ Follow behind us; ease the weight off his ribs if you can. Don't move faster than he's able, get Alan to help. Ok?"

Scott bit his lip, eyes travelling towards where the Hood lay. Virgil growled, having forgotten about the monster in the room. "We don't have time for this Scott!"

"I'll do it," Jeff squeezed Gordon's hand gently before getting to his feet. He sent a glare that would make armies quake with fear towards the Hood. "I'll see to it that he's tied somewhere for the Defense Force to find. Then I'll come after you with John. But move him out now. You hear that Gordon? Don't you dare to anything dramatic until I get back to you." Jeff let his fingers brush lightly over Gordon's hair before moving off towards the Hood.

Virgil didn't even look at his Scott as they started moving. He stood to Gordon's right, one hand guarding the stretcher, the other trying to steady the rebreather. They moved past their brothers with grim faces and began the steady decline back into the tunnel system. It was so _hard_ for Virgil to have to leave John like he was, but right now the middle brother had to focus his energy. John was strong, he had proved that much. The mental scars would linger far longer than the physical; luckily Virgil could help with both.

If only Gordon hadn't gone and got himself _shot._

Virgil barely had time to register what had happened. He remembered calling after his brother, he remembered being torn between leaving John and following Gordon. He had done _neither_ , considering John made the decision for him and tried to follow after Gordon himself. Virgil had known something had happened before he even reached the room. The erratic behavior Gordon was displaying before they got into the tunnels should have been enough to sound alarm bells. But Virgil had been focused on the others. As usual, he was too _damn_ focused on the others.

"We still need to have that talk buddy…" Virgil muttered, voice echoing around the empty corridors. "Even more than we did before. You should have just told me what you were thinking…you're an idiot, you know that right? A stupid, selfless, _brave_ , idiot. Why'd you let all that sit inside you without telling me? I'm supposed to be your go to brother. Ah hell, you're just gonna have to tell me everything when you wake up. Ok?"

The silence was worse than Virgil had expected it to be. Usually with Gordon there was never a dull moment. But lately… _lately_ …Virgil should have been there for him. Virgil should have known what he was thinking. But he had been too caught up in his own problems.

Scott didn't say anything. The expression on his face said everything that words couldn't.

"You know, I think I might get that coffee machine after all…" Virgil continued, subtly trying to speed up as his fingers brushed Gordon's ever quickening pulse. "Because the last thing I want to be is moody on a rescue. You were… _are…_ right; it will make it far more bearable for you. That's good, isn't it?" Virgil could no longer keep the desperation out of his tone. "We'll change Gordy, I promise. We'll go back to how we used to be if you just… _stay._ Please. You told me before that you were always coming home, well make good on your promise yeah?"

"Virgil he's going to be _fine_ …" Scott managed to keep his own voice steady. Virgil bit his lip and shook his head. No more. What would pleading do for a brother who had already decided he was worthless? How could he possibly _think_ that? Well Virgil wouldn't let him think that anymore, not if he pulled through this. None of them would. Rounding the bend, Virgil saw the light at the end of the tunnel. He just hoped like hell that Gordon didn't too.

ooooo

The ship was a monster, roaring and tearing at the ocean. The waves tried to fight back by slapping onto the wood, throwing the boat from side to side. Water burst through the porthole. The ship was tearing apart. Liquid seeped through the cracks in walls and Gordon was drowning. It hurt that he couldn't breathe.

Gordon had never experienced it before, the burn of the water, the shards of terror that ripped into him as he realized something was holding him down. His foot was caught and there was no way to move, only to look up at the distant light of the sun. The grasp on his foot was as unrelenting as the pressure on his lungs. Were there hands holding him down? Gordon swallowed mouth fulls of water, salt grating at his throat, his nose, his eyes. The hands didn't lift; there was nothing to rescue him this time, only darkness.

A thousand voices buzzed through his head as though he couldn't quite get the right frequency on the radio. _Never this bad. Mixture of movement. Almost there. Just keep breathing._

What were they _saying?_ All he wanted to do was sleep, why couldn't they just leave him alone to s _leep?_

 _Fight it Gordon._

No. _No._ Gordon had no energy to fight back. The pressure in his chest was building. The waves around him were deafening. Shadows danced before his eyes, speckles of light dribbled through. It was so hot. But then it was cold. Pain spiked every time he moved, years had passed, yet no time at all. He was propelled back, forward, up, down, to every corner of the earth. It was the worst he had ever felt, and it was never ending. Why would nobody _stop it_? He just wanted it all to stop.

Hands reached for him but he couldn't reach back. Whose hands were they? Gordon didn't want to reach for them. He had no energy left in him to do so; he had no _will_ left in him to do so. _Just let me go._ Why wouldn't they just let him go? Why couldn't they understand that it was for the best? Everything _hurt_. His mind was on fire, so was his body. It seemed he was condemned to an eternity of thunderstorms crackling against his skull. The ache in his chest was growing; it was growing stronger, so strong he no longer had air. The water was everywhere now. There was no way out. The hands that were reaching for him vanished, and all Gordon had was nothing. All he had to do was let go…

ooooo

It was just when Thunderbird Two was coming into land that Gordon's heartrate dropped. The Global Defense rate had already cleared it with the nearest hospital that Thunderbirds would be arriving, and the security measures had been sent by the GD themselves. Virgil had filled the hospital in on what the situation was. All Jeff had to hear were the words 'possible' and 'spine' to send him into a whirlpool of worry. But throughout the trip, everything was going smoothly with the aquanaut, until the piercing note of the flat line ripped through the infirmary.

"No, no, fight it Gordon, _fight it_ , we're almost there dammit!" Virgil yelled, leaping to his feet and racing over to where his brother was strapped into the bed.

Jeff's heart stopped along with Gordon's and he knew it wouldn't start again until the comforting rhythm of the monitor returned. Darkness had been his world for the past months, darkness and suffering, but he would gladly take it all back if it meant Gordon wasn't lying there _dying._

Subconsciously, Jeff's hand moved to grab onto John's, his eternal comforter. But the astronaut had had no calming words this time, having finally given in to letting himself be sedated by Virgil. He said it was to 'minimize' the strain on his ribs, but Jeff knew it was for the horrible amount of pain he was in. Jeff didn't blame him; he would have done the same. But if he allowed himself to sleep and wake up to no _Gordon…_ that was something he didn't even want to think about.

The flat line continued. Virgil was charging the defibrillator with the efficiency and confidence of a fully trained surgeon. This was an area in which Jeff had limited knowledge and skills, and it pained him to no end that he couldn't do anything to _help._ But he couldn't just let Gordon slip away…Virgil brought the pads down. Gordon convulsed. Nothing happened.

" _No_ Gordy _…_ " Virgil's whine was so reminiscent of his childhood years that it broke Jeff's heart. He began charging the defib again, not daring to even look at his father. The sound of Thunderbird Two's thrusters slowing down told them they were almost on the ground. Virgil brought the defib back down. Nothing. _No, please,_ no…

Letting go of John's hand, Jeff got up and strode towards Gordons bed. He stood by his side and mustered a glare. "Gordon _Cooper_ Tracy don't you _dare_ do this to me again young man. You have just got me _back_ , I am not going to let you _leave_ me. We are about a millisecond away from _help_ – so you better fight for one more goddamn second boy, that's all I'm _asking_ , just hold on for one more-"

Virgil brought the defibrillator back down. Jeff held his breath.

The heart monitor spiked.

Jeff crumpled in relief, both his hands finding Gordon's and squeezing gently. His tone softened, "That's more like it…keep that going, Virgil isn't going to let you go that easily."

Virgil buried his face in his hands but nodded. He was practically shivering with exhaustion and stress, the idea that the life of a brother was in his hands far too heavy a burden to bear. He took his hands away and exhaled heavily, "I wonder if it was the yelling or the defib."

"What?"

"That brought him back."

"Alan says he listens to me."

"Gordon? _Listening_?" The expression on Virgil's face had been the same as his fathers. Jeff smiled weakly, filled with adoration for his middle boy. Virgil offered a thin one back and the two shared a glance that said more than words ever could.

Thunderbird Two's thrusters cut out completely as she landed gently on the tarmac.

"The ER's are heading over here now," Scott yelled from the cockpit. He had reverted – and stayed – in his tone as commander. Jeff thought it helped him stay focused. "I can see them assembling. Prep Gordon and John to move out, Alan's circling in One. I'll call him in and tell him to land in a few."

"FAB," Virgil called, and it was all go from there.

In a blur and flurry of movement, Scott ran to the infirmary to help with John while Jeff and Virgil moved Gordon's stretcher out and into the waiting arms of the emergency teams. There were police and defense force agents waiting among the medical staff, but Jeff paid them no heed. A team of strangers detached Jeff from Gordon, and in a moment, his son was gone. They raced through the doors to the main body of the hospital with Jeff following swiftly behind them. He didn't take in any of his surroundings, he didn't care about those, he cared about Gordon. As they reached another set of double doors a hand reached out to stop him. "You can't go in there Sir."

Jeff glared and brushed the hand away, "that's my _son_ , I need to go with him-"

"Sir, they will be taking him into the operating room. Nobody else is permitted to be there."

Jeff felt distress flood his system. " _No_. It all…happened too fast. I have to go to him, I have to say something. I didn't say anything important to him I…" _What if this was it? What if he wasn't strong enough to push through surgery? What if something complicated happened?_ Oh god he hadn't said goodbye…none of them had… "I have to get him back I-"

A heavy hand came down on Jeff's shoulder. "Let them do their jobs Dad," Virgil said softly. He cleared something quickly with the medical personnel, speaking in hushed tones. Jeff was too preoccupied to listen. Virgil turned back to him, "they'll keep us updated; he's in good hands now. You can say everything to him when he wakes _up._ "

"But what If he doesn't wake up…" Jeff whispered, still staring down the hall that Gordon had disappeared down. This was Lucy all over again. It was hydrofoil all over again. It was _hell_ all over again.

"We don't think about that," Virgil stated. Jeff turned to him slowly, wondering when the position of father and son had swapped around. The way the light caught Virgil's eyes was so reminiscent of Lucille that it made Jeff tear up. Gordon had her eyes too…

"Oh _Dad_ ," Virgil muttered. Jeff tried to blink the tears away, looking up to the ceiling in avoidance of meeting his son's eye. Why was it installed in him that tears were weakness? It _shouldn't_ be that way. But he had to set an example for his boys, he had to be strong…Yet everything had happened so _suddenly._ He barely even had time to comprehend Scott and John's presences back in his life before the other three showed up, and now one was trying to disappear from him.

"Sorry," Jeff cleared his throat, reaching a hand out to squeeze his son's shoulder. "I'm just…" he sighed heavily, "overwhelmed. This has all been such a… _shock._ "

Virgil rolled his eyes and wrapped those strong arms around his father. Jeff returned the embrace, wondering when Virgil had gotten so _tall._ He choked on his words, "I missed you all so much."

"I know," Virgil murmured, tone inferring something Jeff didn't understand. "Trust me, we missed you too."

"You did so well…with Gordon. I never say that enough about you, but you do everything so _well_ -"

"Dad," Virgil pulled back, a peculiar expression on his face. "I'm not the one who was held and tortured by the Hood for months. Nor am I the son that was tortured by that same man or the other one that was shot by him…I'm just the guy that shows up late and isn't smart enough to stand up to his stupid younger brothers. Save your praise for someone who deserves it."

Jeff opened his mouth, ready to rebuke that claim entirely, when Scott came running up to them. The eldest Tracy looked anything but composed, pulled in all different directions of brothers in need. Two agents walked behind him, dipping their heads in Jeff's direction. "Dad, there are two members of the Defense Force here that want to talk to you. They're saying Colonel Casey is on her way here now."

Jeff instantly shook his head. "No, I need to stay with you. All of you. Where's Alan? And where have they taken John?"

"Mr. Tracy we really-" one of the agents began but was interrupted.

"They _need_ to talk to you Dad, you do realise you've been missing and presumed dead for a long time, right?" Scott's words were clipped and frustrated, a clear sign his emotions were all over the place. He too just wanted to be with his brothers but there were things that needed to be taken care of.

"Yes Scott I _do_ realise that," Jeff snapped back. The return of assertiveness to his tone startled both his sons. "It's not something I'm likely to forget. But right now, I'm not interested in recounting what happened to _me._ I'll speak to Colonel Casey when she gets here but no sooner, not until I hear about Gordon. Understood?" He directed the last question to both the agents. They looked unhappy about this but didn't question him. Nobody questioned that tone. "Where's Al?" Jeff repeated.

Scott pinched the bridge of his nose. "Post flights."

"Call him in," Jeff softened his tone. "We'll wait with John. It seems there's a lot you boys need to catch me up on."

"On one condition," Virgil counteracted tiredly.

Jeff raised an eyebrow.

"You need to get checked out too…" the artist's eyes scanned his father as though _really_ looking for the first time. He was too tired to be horrified. "You look like hell."

Jeff nodded. He felt like it too.

ooooo

Gordon had been in surgery for over six hours and Scott was struggling to stay awake. After everything that had happened it would have been reasonable for anyone to let themselves sleep, but Scott wouldn't allow it. Not if there was a chance John would wake up and certainly not while Gordon's life was still hanging in the balance.

Scott was glad that Jeff and Alan had finally succumbed to their exhaustion however. Alan was curled up in the seat next to his father, resting as close to him as he could possibly get just to reinforce the fact that he was actually with them. Scott had never been prouder of his younger brother than he was today. The fact that Alan had not only taken control of Thunderbird One, but also _Two_ , without a single hitch or worry, was remarkable. He certainly was growing to be the most capable pilot of them all – not that Scott would ever tell him that. Though, perhaps he should.

Jeff had insisted on listening to every detail about what had been going on while he was 'away'. He kept referring to it as being 'away' and it irked Scott to no end; it made it sound like he had just been on a business trip. Perhaps it was for Alan's benefit, but the kid was all too aware of what treatment his father had been receiving. Jeff pushed through it. His medical examination was as brief as his talk to Colonel Casey. He had given her the basic facts and then promptly told her to wait until after Gordon's surgery for the longer version. Scott suspected she was probably _still_ waiting.

Scott was reluctant to tell Jeff the precise details of what had been going on over the past weeks, but Alan took that liberty for him. The youngest Tracy had babbled on about rescues – a good distraction for all of them – but stopped short on details about Gordon's disappearance. That had been left up to Scott to explain, and had gone down as well as he expected, which wasn't well at _all_. The fact that Jeff's disappearance had caused such a divide in his family was startlingly painful, and he wasn't quick enough to hide the shock he felt that Gordon would leave International Rescue to go in search of him.

Scott couldn't imagine what was going through his father's mind. It had been _such_ a day. More than that, it felt like it had been a lifetime. The emotions Scott had felt – from relieved and happy, to desperately angry, to hurt and anguished, and now to round it off by just feeling scared – were nothing compared to what his father must be feeling. But Jeff reigned it in. The only moment of weakness (not in Scott's eyes but his own) was allowing himself to fall asleep, head resting on Alan's, hand on John's.

Scott and Virgil sat on the other side of the room. The middle brother was very much alert – darting out of the room every half an hour to ask for an update about Gordon's condition. He relayed the information back to Scott (if being told 'we're doing our best' was considered information) and that was the extent of conversation between them. Scott knew that Virgil didn't want to strike up a talk because he expected the eldest to be angry. But when Virgil was avoiding his brother in a time when they needed one another most things were just going to go wrong.

Scott _was_ angry, but he had no right to be. He needed Virgil to know that. "Virg, I'm going to say something that I know-"

"No," Virgil held up a hand, still stained a little red. No matter how many times he washed them it just seemed to _stay_ there. Scott winced. "I know what you're going to say. I shouldn't have brought Alan and Gordon along with me. Yeah, well I _know_ that. I knew that when I was doing it. But we were worried about you – we all were."

"Virg-"

"I _know_ , I was stupid. Especially considering what just happened to Gordon. But I wasn't thinking straight – and you know how terrible those two get together. Do you know how _guilty_ I feel? Goddamn man, if Gordon _dies_ it's on _me-_ "

"Virgil stop talking," Scott said firmly, keeping his voice low as to not wake the others. "I was going to say – thank _you._ "

Virgil looked up in confusion. His face was so weary that Scott was wondering how he was still upright. "…what?"

"Thank you for coming after us," Scott repeated.

"…you're not angry?"

"Of _course_ I am. You traipsed our younger brothers _towards_ the Hood when I told you to take them home. But if you _hadn't_ done that? Do you know how much worse it might have been? I would have had to watch John-" Scott's words caught in his throat, eyes travelling to where John was sleeping. "Let's just say, I was _very_ tempted to give in to the Hood's demands."

Virgil raised his eyebrows, entirely surprised that it had come so close to that. Scott wasn't sure why he was so surprised. Sure, International Rescue meant everything to Scott, but not as much as his brothers. "I'd also be dead," Scott continued. Even as he said it the words left a horrible taste in his mouth "If you hadn't brought Gordon. He saved me Virg, that _idiot_ saved me…"

Virgil sighed heavily, burying his head in his hands. It had been so _close._ Who knew what a couple more hours could have done? The Hood might have killed John, he would have killed Scott, and Jeff…he might have been taken somewhere else for all they knew. Perhaps Virgil had made the right choice…but _Gordon._ Stupid, selfless Gordon. Virgil shuddered; picturing his brother's bleeding form. Scott placed a hand on his Virgil's shoulder. "Also I'd be a hypocrite – once _again_ – if I lectured you on dragging younger brothers into dangerous situations. Considering the fact that I walked John right into a trap."

Virgil looked up from his hands and studied John. The astronaut had come away with three broken ribs and second degree burns on his arm. The knife wounds – thankfully – didn't run too deep, but the bruises would stick around for a long time. "I wouldn't have been able to handle it."

"No," Scott felt himself smiling. "He was pretty damn incredible Virg, you have no idea. I was the one that was ready to break and he…he just kept it together."

"Hmm…" Virgil didn't share Scott's smile. "We have to be gentle when he wakes up. As much as he insists he's fine, nobody walks away from that without scars. Physical and mental. We can't overestimate his strength."

"I don't think I've ever _over_ estimated his strength…" Scott muttered, wondering at what point John had become the brother he considered to be most fragile. From what he saw today, that certainly was not the case.

"I overestimated Gordon's strength," Virgil's words were so quiet that Scott barely heard them. It took a moment for the meaning to register. Scott knew what he meant. Gordon played everything so casual all the time, he was so laid back, that it never crossed Scott's mind he wasn't dealing very well. That was evident with what had happened these last weeks. "Scott, it's worse than I thought it was."

Scott instantly felt the tendrils of worry begin to crawl back into place. "What do you mean? How so?"

"His self-worth is just…" Virgil shook his head. "He thinks he doesn't matter and that if we got Dad back – even if the cost was _him_ – that everything would be ok. You should have seen how reckless he got; it was like he just didn't care about his own life anymore. That's why he left. He thought we didn't need _him,_ ever since that rescue where he lost that woman it's just been growing and growing…and somehow I didn't realise! _Me!_ I'm supposed to be the person that understands what's going _on_ and I just…I failed him Scott."

Scott felt all the emotions he felt that day rip through him again. Fists clenching, he really wanted to 'do a Scott' and punch something inanimate right now. Really freaking _hard._ "Are you _serious_ Virgil? Why didn't I notice this-" Scott paused. No. Perhaps he had noticed but he'd been too damn proud to do anything about it. Calling Gordon a _liability_ …hell, Scott had only made it worse. "Oh god Virg, this is _bad._ The Hood called him expendable, right before he shot him. Do you think that's what he's been thinking? That he's expendable to us?"

Virgil gave a small nod. "I think so…he was in a dark place after Dad disappeared Scott, but he smiled to hide it. That's what he thought his job was, to keep everyone smiling, but when he couldn't do that anymore…he left. I was too caught up in everything to even notice."

Scott stamped his foot into the ground. "Why would he think _that_? Was this what jumping in front of me was? His ultimate _sacrifice?_ That…that…" Scott had no words for what he was feeling. He didn't even know who he was angry at. Him _self_ mainly.

"So I'm worried Scott. Really worried. Because even if the surgeons get him back on track, even if the injury is not as bad as we think…he's got to put in the work to heal, and if he's lost that _will_ -" Virgil drew in a shuddery breath. "He needs to _want_ to fight Scott. Recovering will be _hard._ "

"Yeah, well we'll make him see," Scott's words were filled with nothing more than determination. "We've got to make him understand how much we need him _back_. I thought he _knew_ that without five of us we're nothing. He can't seriously think we'd be _happy_ when he's gone?"

Virgil sighed, eyes moving to Alan. "Yeah well, I guess we never told him."

The words _and we might never get the chance_ flittered through Scott's mind. He pushed them away, wondering if it would be a good idea to tell Jeff how Gordon had been feeling. Knowing their father, he probably already knew just by intuition. A couple days back with them and he'd be fixing more than Scott had been these past months. But together they would have to help Gordon, he had to know how important he really was if he was going to get through this.

 _When_ he got through this.

Next to Scott, Virgil got to his feet. A doctor was standing in the doorway to the room, hesitant to enter. Scott didn't like the look on her face. "Your brothers out of surgery…" she said softly, eyes darting towards the sleeping Jeff.

Scott rose and followed Virgil quickly, heart twisting. "Is he alright?" it sounded stupid when he said it out loud, but the surgeon was obviously used to it.

"He lost a lot of blood, but luckily the bullet managed to bypass major blood vessels. The shot entered through his right chest wall and the bullet lodged just before the thoracic vertebral canal. There was minimal vertebral bone injury however, which is lucky considering his previous injuries. We managed to retrieve most of the bullet fragments out and the bullet itself. Micro fractures to vertebrae may become a problem, but as of now he's stable."

Scott didn't really understand a word she just said but was instantly relieved by the word 'stable'. He felt his knees weaken slightly and had to put a hand out to steady himself. Virgil asked a few more questions, all of which Scott needed translated. When the surgeon left, Virgil turned to him in full understanding. "Basically if the bullet moved any further we would have gone down another hydrofoil route…" Virgil suppressed a shudder. "It will be hard to know his full range of movement until he wakes up, but by what I'm hearing, he _should_ …don't hold me to this… _should_ be alright."

Scott shot him a questioning look

"By _alright_ I mean _not paralyzed._ Apparently some of the shrapnel ricocheted towards his lungs and ribs and that alone will be immensely painful. Trust me Scott, I have no idea what else will be going on with him. But it's very possible there's a long road ahead of us."

Scott grimaced, but he was not off put. "Well if there is, we'll be there every step of the way."

ooooo

 _Note: Thanks again for the wonderful response to the last chapter. There's probably only one more to go on this one (but who knows – I get carried away sometimes, and definitely don't want to rush it!) Please forgive my limited medical knowledge- Virgil wouldn't share all his medical ideas with me, he was too stressed (which is understandable!) I'm a little bit busy this week but will hopefully get the next part out soon- again, thanks for reading and responding!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Note: Sorry this is a bit late- I've been busy making a film this week. Got a bit carried away (as usual) writing this chapter, so there will be one last one after this. Also, notifications for the last chapter might not have been received - someone PM'd me saying they hadn't got one, so just make sure you read the last installment or this might not make sense! Thanks again for reading and your lovely responses, they leave me smiling all day!_

 _ooooo_

 _John was running with every force of nature behind him. He didn't know why he was running, but he knew it was away from something, or someone. The hurried scrape of feet against leaves and sticks thumped from all around him. A dagger like thorn tore at his leg as he ran past. Crimson blood flowed against white flesh, burning holes in the ground as it reached the rotting leaves. Everything was rotting. Bark was peeling off the trees like burnt flesh, leaves shriveled and died with every touch. Decay, death, the smell filled the air and there was no escaping it. No sun filtered through the leave nor was there any sign of the moon, or the stars. Someone was catching up to him. They were a shadow, faceless, nameless… John continued to run until he could move no longer. Until his feet sunk into the mud and he had no breath left in his lungs. A figure appeared out of nowhere...he looked familiar. Was it Gordon? The hazy figure before him tried to say something but couldn't, hands rising to grasp at his throat. Slowly his skin became to peel like that of the trees until he disappeared into nothing._

John's eyes flashed open. Breathing heavily, he was overcome by the horrible sensation that normally occurred when he woke up in a different bed. _Where was he?_ The beeping. It sounded like 'Fives monitors. But the room was too big to be his room...John twisted his body to try and look around but felt a throb ripple through him at the movement. An image of the Hood flashed before his eyes. _No._

Wait.

That's right.

He blinked and foggy shapes drew back from the shadows. Understanding crept upon him. John had been wafting in and out of consciousness for a long while, his mind desperately trying to fight the drugs in his system for… some reason. No, not for some reason. For _Gordon._

Every time John awoke, it was to darkness. No matter how much time he felt had passed it was still night. The astronaut was stuck in an endless evening with no stars to gaze upon, with nothing to distract him from the growing fire in his ribs. The figures in his room were constantly changing. Jeff was there most of the time, but he was usually dozing. It was strange. John would slip back into a fitful sleep and wake up to another member of his family by his side. It was always either one of his brothers, or his father, never both at the same time. John remembered thinking that was strange. Yet his mind was too heavy to put real thought to it. He was always too weak to call out to any of them as well, or they were fast asleep. It had been a long night for him so John couldn't imagine how long it had been for them.

This time when the astronaut awoke however, Jeff was staring back at him. His blue eyes were alert and brows furrowed, too lost in his own thoughts to register that John was awake. The expression on his father's face confused John. He looked pained – as anyone ought to be –and afraid, but there was something more…

Something clattered out in the hallway. Jeff leapt to his feet at the sudden sound and whirled towards it. He braced himself as though gearing for an attack and, when none came, his shoulders visibly relaxed. John swallowed dryly, lifting a weak hand to try and get his father's attention. But Jeff was now engrossed in studying every piece of furniture in the room. He pulled out drawers of a cabinet and pushed them back in, not taking anything out, just _looking._ It was strangely frantic behavior and John knew it was only happening because he thought he was unobserved.

In an attempt to speak to him, John just ended up coughing. It sent what felt like shards of glass through his midriff but got the desired result. Bunching up his bedsheets tightly in his hand, John gritted his teeth and fought through the pain.

"John?" Jeff turned on his heel and looked– almost nervously – back towards his son. His eyes darted towards the door for a brief second. "You're awake? I didn't think…how are you feeling?"

John raised an eyebrow in answer.

"You're right, that's a stupid question," Jeff's hand ran through his hair. He moved slightly closer to John's bed but hesitated, looking back toward the door. "Do you need me to get Scott? He's been waiting with you but…"

"No Dad -"

"What about Virgil? He's going to want to know. Alan is asleep but said to-"

"Dad-" John tried to push himself a little higher but was met with a thousand sharp beads of resistance. His left arm, bandaged tightly, gave way as the pressure proved too much for it. Cursing quietly, John just let himself lie there. "Gordon?" He only needed to say his brother's name for Jeff to know what he wanted. Rationally, John knew that Gordon was obviously alive, or Jeff wouldn't be there with him. But fear didn't follow rational thinking, and John was still just as terrified for his little brother.

Jeff sighed and wrung his hands together anxiously. "He's uh…Gordon's out of surgery. The Doctors say he's stable but there might be a chance that he…" he hesitated again, studying John with worry. "Virgil says it's only a small chance really…"

"A small chance of what?" John croaked impatiently, closing his eyes as he tried to keep his breathing even. "That he won't wake up?"

"No." Jeff said harsher than he intended. It was like with that simple word not waking up just wasn't an option for Gordon. Well, it wasn't. He had four brothers to see to that. "We're just not sure of his full…range of movement. But if… _when_ …he wakes up, it will be fine. I know it will be fine. Just like you will be fine…" Jeff exhaled slowly, the dark rings beneath his eyes indicators of how much he had slept. "We'll _all_ be fine."

His mantra like words displayed that Jeff was truly shaken. John understood that feeling. Simply pairing Gordon's name with the sentence 'full range of movement' sent the astronaut down a memory lane he'd rather not visit. He shivered involuntarily. "I want to see him," It wasn't a question.

Jeff shook his head slowly, "You can't move anywhere John. The doctor said that you-"

"I don't care about that. I just want to see him."

"He's not _awake_ John, he's only hours out of surgery. _You're_ only just awake-"

"So are you, and you're injured _and_ you're walking around," John counteracted. The murkiness of his mind was pushed clear by the desire to see Gordon. "In fact, you're probably the one that should be in the hospital bed, not me."

"John you can't…" Jeff bit his lip, appearing far frailer than he had in the dark underground rooms. He looked like he'd aged ten years in his time with the Hood. John felt like he might be the only one to understand why. "You just… _can't_ right now, ok? It will be too much for you. You've been through a lot-"

" _I've_ been through a lot? What about-"

"Dad's right Johnny, stop arguing," as Scott's voice entered the room Jeff practically drooped in relief. It was almost as though he was glad not to have to talk to John on his own. John frowned at Scott, but didn't question his timing. Somehow Scott just knew exactly when he was needed. It was just magic eldest brother intuition. "Don't glare at me like that- hey, and stop trying to sit up!" Scott strode forward and pushed John gently back into his lying position. " _Stay there_. Gordon is fine-"

"He's _not_ fine-"

"He _will_ be fine. Just like you-"

"Oh _god,_ stop _saying that,_ " John groaned, feeling the beginnings of a headache touch at his temples. The cut on his cheek stung every time he talked, and even when he shifted slightly there was no escape from the ache he was engulfed in. Painkillers had dimmed everything slightly, including his mind, and that more than anything irked John. He wanted to be able to _think._ If the Hood came back, if he somehow escaped, then John needed to be fully alert… "Al was right, I _do_ hate when people say they are fine when they're not. Nobody's fine. S _top_ trying to protect me."

Jeff and Scott shared a glance and that irritated John even further. They had been through the exact _same_ thing as John, even worse for his father, yet they still wanted to treat him like he was fragile. Scott had bruises dotted across his jaw, a split lip, and what looked like a black eye- yet he was running around still playing commander.

"Don't get worked up John," Scott said softly, pulling up a chair to draw closer to John's bedside. He sat down while their father hung back, almost awkwardly, as though he wasn't sure quite where he fit anymore. It was strange. John was wondering that too. "We'll get you and Gordon in the same room once things have…calmed down. That would be good, wouldn't it?"

John narrowed his eyes at his brother. The worry in Scott's face was crystal clear as his eyes danced from various wounds on the astronaut's body. John rolled his eyes. _"Don't_ patronize me, Scott. Seriously. The others you can mollycoddle, but not me. This will all heal."

Scott bit his lip, "I know." The worry didn't leave his expression.

John knew why. The fact that every time he blinked he saw the Hood leering at him was not a good sign. Every time a shadow shifted John tensed, worried about an impending threat that was nothing but a shift in light. It was not a sensible thought, nor was it rational. But just because John knew the Hood was safely with the GD by now, it didn't stop his fear. Nothing stopped fear. John could tell it was the same for Jeff. They were running on the same hyper aware frequency. Worried for their own safety, sure, but more the fact the pain they felt might be inflicted on the others.

Scott didn't have to know all this. John found himself wanting to do the same thing he'd just scolded the eldest for doing; he wanted to protect him from the truth. But John was known for his blunt honesty, and if he wanted to stop this hypocritical trend in the family, he'd have to start with himself. "It's hard to breathe," he said softly, staring up at the roof instead of his brother.

"I know…" Scott placed a hand on his arm. Jeff was watching them both, face twisted in something John didn't recognize. _Frustration? Anguish? Confusion?_

John decided to continue. He was on a roll now, why stop? "Also my ribs are on fire and I can _feel_ that they're broken. Everything else I've broken before was sore but I never really _felt_ it. With this- I can feel them _moving._ Almost like that henchman is still just kicking me over and _over_ again…" John stopped, blinking at the roof, trying to rid himself of the image. "But I shouldn't complain about that. I mean Gordon was _shot._ In the _chest._ "

"Yes he was, but he's going to be fi-"

"Don't say the F-word. _'Fine'_ is officially banned from this room. Did you hear that Dad?"

Jeff looked startled at having been addressed.

John sighed. "Sit down. You're making me uncomfortable."

"Oh," Jeff scratched at his own bandaged arm. It was such a simple action, but conveyed a lot to John about how insecure his father was feeling. "I can leave if you want? Let you two talk…I better go and check up on your brother anyway-"

"No." John pointed to the chair next to Scott. "Stay."

Jeff's eyebrows rose and a tiny flicker of amusement passed through his eyes. Nobody ordered Jeff Tracy around, not even Scott, but right now John had very little patience. A smile lit up his face for a moment and then it was gone again, leaving the shell of a man before him. Scott noticed this and studied his father quietly.

"I dreamt about him…" John said softly once his father had sat down.

Scott frowned. "The Hood?"

Nodding, the astronaut fidgeted with his sheet. "Hmm…and Gordon, I think." John's heart was still racing from the vivid nightmare, so much so that he didn't want to discuss it. It felt so _real._ Instead he lifted a shaky hand and pointed to his bandaged cheek. "Do you think this will turn into a permanent scar?"

"Worried it will diminish your looks?" Scott leant back in his chair. He tried to keep his expression casual, light even, but the alarm was evident in his eyes.

John looked away. They didn't need more reasons to worry about him, not when they had someone else to focus their attention on. "Yeah because all those people I see up in 'Five are going to judge me for having a scar," he retorted dryly. " _No_. Just because I'd prefer not to be reminded of the Hood every day when I look in the mirror. Though, I suppose that was the point of it."

Scott's calm expression disappeared, replaced by one of repressed rage. "I should have given that bastard a few more scars of his own for doing that to you-"

"Scott, I said stop being so over-"

"He's right John," Jeff said quietly, staring at something just past John's eye line. It was so strange to hear his _voice_ , almost surreal. "If Gordon hadn't been…well… let's just say the Hood was lucky Scott got to him first."

They were all silent for a moment. John didn't think being punched over and over again by Scott would usually be considered 'lucky'. But the way Jeff had looked when he saw what the Hood had done to his son…the second eldest wondered if his father truly would have gone against all his values just for revenge. Just for _John_.

"Is this weird for you?" John asked, sending a direct gaze towards his father. "It's weird for me."

Jeff opened his mouth and closed it again, looking unsurely towards Scott. The eldest didn't meet his father's eyes but continued to stare at John. His own eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what he was thinking. Jeff shuffled in his seat, "Well I…I said I could leave-"

 _"_ _Dad_ ," John rolled his eyes. "We just got you back. What makes you think I want you to leave? I'm just saying that it's strange. All of a sudden you're back with us and my brain hasn't had time to comprehend it all." His brain hadn't had time to do _anything_ really.

Jeff's eyebrows drew together in confusion. Scott turned to his father. "I think he's trying to say that it's good to have you back, just in true John-style."

"No, I'm saying it's weird."

"But a _good_ weird, right?" Scott asked, sending a perplexed look in his brother's direction.

"Yes, of course." John tilted his head, eyes never leaving his father. Jeff – who was a strong believe in holding eye contact – couldn't look his way. "I thought I'd never see you again. I _prepared_ myself to never see you again. Now that I _am_ seeing you again, my brains just trying to get used to it, I think. So it's strange."

Jeff looked up slowly. "You really thought I was dead?"

John answered without even blinking. "Yes. The facts were plain and simple. No one would survive a crash like that."

Wincing, the Tracy Patriarch turned his head away like he was trying to rid himself of the thought. John knew It must have been very traumatic, whatever happened to him with the plane. The astronaut didn't want to push him into talking…but at the same time, he did. Jeff couldn't lie to himself about what happened. He'd have to share it eventually.

"Gordon didn't think you were dead…" Scott said softly. "His assurance that you were alive helped Alan a lot. The kid couldn't lose another parent. His insistence helped Virg too. I think it did the opposite for me. I didn't want to have hope and then for it to be…" he cut off mid-sentence as though only just realizing he was sharing something about his own feelings. He cleared his throat, "But ah, Grandma never stopped believing either. She and Gords were the only ones that really talked about…it."

A fond smile graced Jeff's face. John looked up guiltily, realizing he hadn't even spared a though for the most important woman in his life. "How'd she take the news?"

"Like a true Tracy…" Jeff murmured, lost in a memory. "Relieved at me being alive, horrified at what happened…but brushing it all off at the same time. She's catching a flight here in the morning; Brains said he'd take her to the mainland. I can't wait to see that Island again…and everyone on it."

John realised there were a whole lot of other things he should be concerned about too. _This_ was why he hated being sedated. He missed out on too much information, and to John, information was everything. "Wait; wait…where are the Thunderbirds? What do these people know about International Rescue? What if a call comes in...?Also, where _are_ we?"

Scott, despite himself, chuckled at John's sudden confusion. "The 'birds are being housed at an empty warehouse on site. Usually it holds helicopters so it was a tight fit, but we made it in the end. The Defense Force have posted a couple of agents around it as security. As for this place, we're in a private wing. Some of the doctors have been notified about the situation of course…but they've all sworn to secrecy. I think we can trust them. To be honest I wasn't even thinking of security…" Scott trailed off again at the small growl his father made. "Dad?"

Jeff glanced up, his fists visibly clenching. "Sorry. It's just…I hope they _can_ be trusted. I've learnt a lot about trust lately that I'd prefer to forget." His head darted back toward the door like a nervous twitch. Instinctively, John's eyes followed his line of sight. A shadow passed by the door and it was gone. Together he and his father exhaled.

There was a pause.

"I trusted Mallory too," Scott said quietly, running a hand through his hair. At almost the exact same time Jeff mimicked the action. John's lip twitched. "We went over business plans together; I called him pretty much every day. He helped me so _much_ while you were…gone…we were all shocked by that one."

"I know…" Jeff glared at the end of John's bed, having to force himself not to grind his teeth together. "But I've known that man for…ten years, more even. When you boys were still in high school. We weren't just colleagues, we were friends. I'd tell him about what you were all up to over drinks; he used to laugh at me because that's all I'd ever talk about. I thought we were close. For him to go around and…and…" Jeff's fingers scraped against the arms of his chair, " _betray_ me…all of us like that…I can't wrap my head around it. I mean…he _hurt_ Gordon. How many other employees are ready to sell us out? Too many, I imagine. Perhaps I should just work full time on the island, it would be safer that way…couldn't let any of you boys travel back to the office either, not after this-"

"Dad," Scott placed a gentle hand on his father's arm. Jeff looked startled at the contact, but his expression softened. "The Defense Force have the Hood now, you know that. He's not getting to anyone in Tracy industries. Nor is he getting to us again."

Jeff's eyes flickered toward John. "Just because he's not physically present doesn't mean he can't get inside a person's head…"

Scott's eyebrows rose. John tilted his head. He was not all that confused at his father's apparent paranoid behavior. John was pretty paranoid that the Hood would come strolling in every second. Or worse, that he would go toward the others… "Is Virgil with Alan and Gordon?" the astronaut asked suddenly, realizing that they might have left their younger siblings by themselves. He was also avoiding the question insinuated in his father's statement.

"Yes," Scott said slowly, instantly understanding John's train of thought. "Virg is with them. There are also agents right outside the door. Nobodies getting in don't worry about that. Do you think I would have left if it wasn't safe?"

John frowned, hiding his relief. "Well, I'd like to think you would have come to see me anyway."

"You had Dad watching you. You would have been fine."

"Yeah, he's been making sure everything's safe. Haven't you?"

Jeff looked guiltily around the room at everything he'd been examining. "I didn't think you…"

Scott stifled a yawn as he turned to his father. "What do you mean?"

"He's been checking everything in the room."

"Do you blame me?" Jeff was on the defense, folding his arms across his chest. "I was just making sure nothing was bugged, or tracked…I'd prefer not to have to see a repeat of yesterday."

"You and me both," John said flatly.

A silence fell between them. Scott fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt, for once his usual confidence diminished by the memory. "John I'm…" his words came out almost as a whisper. Both John and Jeff were surprised at the change in demeanor.

"Don't you _dare_ apologise to me Scott-" John stopped him, words harsher than intended. He tried to raise a hand in protest but couldn't find the strength. "We talked about this. I'm a human capable of making my own decisions. I made a choice to go with you, and I'm glad I did."

"But if you hadn't you wouldn't have to go through-"

" _No_ , instead he would have tortured _you_ ," John snapped. Both Scott and their father flinched at the word. "Yes, _tortured._ That is a thing that happened to me. Don't walk on eggshells around me, don't avoid the topic. It will be something I'll never forget but I'm just going to think of the outcome, ok? We got Dad back. So don't apologise, don't feel bad- _either of you._ If you want to help, be there when I need someone to talk to. That's _it._ "

Jeff breathed out slowly; reaching out a hand he placed it on John's knee. Usually the astronaut would have withdrew from the contact but he held still, as much for his father's benefit as his own. "God I missed you."

There was a pause.

"I'd always think of you up in Five and that would be so… _comforting_ …just the idea that you might be watching," he paused again warily.

Scott broke the silence, words tinged with amusement. "Wait, you thought of me too, right?

Jeff smiled weakly, "Now and again."

"Pah, favoritism. Oh…John," Scott gave him a small smile as he remembered something. "Ok, I won't apologise for putting you in that situation, even if I do feel guilty as hell. But I do have to say that you are made of freaking _steel_. Just watching the Hood get angrier and angrier was satisfactory revenge enough…so, I do apologise for ever treating you like you weren't tough."

John gave a half smile. Damn _straight._ Hopefully he'd tell the others that too. "But that's not going to stop you from being overprotective, is it?"

"Hey, it's been engrained in me for a long time."

"Yeah, I suppose I had a lot of practice with tormenters..." Johns smile faded as he looked back toward his father. The question Jeff was dreading was already on his lips. "Did you speak to the GD about what happened to you?"

Jeff dipped his head, wanting to be only as half as strong as John and admit to what he'd been through. "Partly…"

"No," Scott answered smile replaced with a hint of frustration. "He's refusing too."

"I don't want to think about that," Jeff snapped, sending Scott his famous 'look'. John suppressed a laugh. "I just want to think about you boys. Only when Gordon is awake and moving will I really get into it. I can't concentrate on anything _else._ "

"You could tell _us_ ," John offered softly, knowing how bad it would be for Jeff to simply bottle everything inside. "It's important you talk about it."

"I know, I know-" Jeff inhaled deeply and shook his head. "I just, I need…I need _time._ "

"Oh come on Dad, you won't even tell us what happened with the crash? How you survived? How it even happened?" Scott said impatiently. It was clear he had been asking these questions already. John now understood why whenever he woke he only ever saw his father and brothers separately. Jeff _was_ avoiding them. He didn't want to have to talk.

Jeff paused, eyeing Scott up and down hesitantly. "…the crash was…well, it wasn't really a crash…and I…" he shook his head. "I don't think I can."

Scott's hand drew together in irritation. "Dad _please._ It can't be any worse than what we've been envisaging these past months-"

"Ok, ok, only if _you_ tell me the truth about what happened while I was gone."

Scott looked confused. "Alan and I did tell you."

"Yes, you did. But you gave me the Scott and Alan version."

The eldest Tracy frowned. "There's a difference between that and a John version?"

Jeff and John answered at the same time, " _yes_."

Scott narrowed his eyes; sitting back in his chair he withdrew his arm from John's. John just shrugged at him, it was kind of true. It wasn't that Scott embellished his stories – that was Gordon's job – he just occasionally omitted certain information that he knew Jeff wouldn't like. Scott knew Jeff better than any of them; therefore he knew what he wouldn't want to hear. That was why he was usually in charge of debriefs. Alan on the other hand preferred to tell the parts of the stories that only revolved around him. It wasn't that he was selfish – far from it, he just occasionally had a one track mind that failed to pick up on those around him.

John on the other hand was somewhat detached from the situation. Not emotionally detached- though the others might think that – but literally far away from what had been going on. He liked to think that he was omniscient, because not being at the Island certainly didn't mean he hadn't been watching. "I'll give you the short story. Shall I?"

Jeff gave a curt nod, already wary about what he was going to hear.

"Well, after news of your crash we just kept moving. We didn't stop International Rescue, we didn't have a break, and we certainly didn't have time to grieve or think all that much about it. We thought it would be a productive distraction and… at the time it felt like a good idea."

"It _was_ a good idea…" Scott muttered quietly, shoulders tensing as he already moved towards defense of his actions.

"Yeah, ok, let's say that it was," John sighed and let his head sink into his pillows. He didn't want to have to look at Scott as he said this. He didn't want to see the betrayal in his eyes. "For the first couple weeks we really helped people. We were so busy that none of us had time to talk about the crash, or to even understand that you were gone. But when things slowed down- we still didn't talk about it. That works fine for me because I internalize everything; I was working it through on my own. Virgil was trying to do that, but he needed Scott to help him through it. Scott wouldn't even touch on the subject, just in case his _emotions_ accidentally escaped-"

"Hey that's not true-"

Jeff held up a hand to stop Scott interrupting. John was getting more frustrated as he worked through it in his head. "None of us even had time to spare a thought for how Gordon and Al were doing. Gordon was helping Alan through it, but nobody…" John's words turned bitter. "Nobody really stopped to ask how Gordon was doing- he was just his usual self, so we thought he was ok…but then, things really went south. We started losing people on rescues-"

"What?" Jeff's surprise at hearing this was indication enough how much Scott had left out. John knew it wasn't because Scott was trying to protect himself, but because he didn't know how much Jeff could handle. If Jeff began feeling that it was _his_ fault these people lost their lives…well, John just had to trust his father to be sensible about it. After all, John had to get it from someone.

"Yeah, I know," was all John said to his father's shock. "We started making mistakes. Those mistakes led to arguments – lots of arguments. That led to tension on rescues, which led to more mistakes, which led to me having to come down and try to fix it…basically we were a mess. It all caught up with us, Virg thought he wasn't being listened too, Alan thought he was being left out, and Gordon, well…he saw what was happening to us."

"He thought we didn't need him so he went after Dad to try and fix it," Scott continued, words filled with frustration. "Then everything went even _further_ to hell. The end _."_

Jeff's fingers tapped on the arms of his chair. John had been studying the various emotions that crossed his face, from pure sadness to rage, but now all was hidden. He had masked himself from his son's.

Scott made to get up. _"_ Now that we've established what a horrible job I did at being commander I'm going to go and check on Gordon-"

"Sit down Scott," Jeff ordered. John had no idea how he anticipated his son's actions by simply looking at his body language.

John kicked himself internally for making Scott feel worse than he already did. "You didn't do a horrible job Scott, you never do. All I'm saying is that we _all_ made mistakes, and we _all_ fell apart. That doesn't fall on you."

Scott shook his head. John noted that his frustration was directed towards him _self_ rather than the others. "But it does! Don't you see? I was meant to keep us together. Mum and Dad entrusted _me_ to look after all of you and I didn't do that. I failed-"

"You didn't _fail-_ " John protested.

Jeff's voice overrode his son's. "Scott Tracy, I haven't been around and even then I know you haven't failed. Listen to me. Did you keep International Rescue running?"

Scott hesitated. "Not singlehandedly-"

"But you took charge of the operation?"

"Yes…Sir?"

"And you took on responsibility for Tracy Industries?"

"I…yes…"

"Plus you kept up your duties as field commander?"

"Depends who you ask…"

" _Scott_."

"Well, yes, I tried," Scott refused to meet his father's eyes. "First responder too, if you want to know that. But none of that _matters._ I neglected my most important job!"

Jeff's expression was still neutral. "Which was?"

Scott kicked out at nothing. "Being a brother! To Al, and Gordon…to everyone! Virgil was right; I was too busy being Commander to keep up my family duties as well-"

"Scott, it is literally engrained in your blood to mother everyone," John stated. "Only this time you were trying to father everyone as well, while simultaneously doing six hundred other things. To be honest, I'm surprised you didn't break from all the stress."

"No…" Scott muttered quietly, staring off at something in the distance. "I tried to be too much like you, Dad. But it didn't work. It just pushed everyone away. Gordon said it to me…after I told him…after we fought…he said I wasn't you, and that's why we weren't working. Hell," Scott buried his head in his hands. John wanted to reach out to him but couldn't. "I called him a liability Dad, that's what he's been carrying around with him. There were so many things that I said to him that…god, I just wish I could take them back. I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough. I'm sorry that I couldn't keep us together, that I let this happen-"

Jeff's arm was around Scott's shoulder in a heartbeat. At the sound of the quiver in Scott's voice it was clear he had reached breaking point. John's blinked, so desperate to reach out to his family, but feeling like there was something blocking him from them. There was _always_ something blocking them from him.

"Scott, I don't blame you for _any_ of this. Nobodies questioning your ability to command, and I'm certainly not questioning your love as a brother. You have no idea how proud I am of you, of _all_ of you," Jeff's words were strangely fierce, like he didn't want Scott to have the same thoughts that he himself was having. "Son, look at me. I for one would never be able to do what you've been doing lately."

Scott did look up at him, now in confusion. "But you _did_. You're our commander, father, and you run Tracy Industries. You did it all on a daily basis."

Jeff's expression softened fondly. He tapped Scott on the head, "yes but I'm never _part_ of the rescues, am I? There's a good reason for that, other than that I'm getting too old. To be honest, I'm not exactly sure how you've been doing it all. I'm not that surprised you misplaced a brother in the process…nor am I surprised that brother was Gordon. There were plenty of times _I_ lost him when you were all younger. When he gets an idea in his head, he chases it. His Olympic medal is one example…"

John chuckled, "I vaguely recall you telling him he needed to focus on his studies more than his swimming."

Jeff sighed, "Yes but he still ran off to tryouts…I'm not complaining that he ran off then, I'm not complaining now. The important thing is that you went after him Scott. You got him back, and then you went after me. You have nothing to apologise for."

Scott bit his lip, still hesitant to take in his father's words. John knew that guilt would never leave him. It was just a part of Scott that he had to do everything that he could for family. So when something went wrong, he always blamed himself. John had been trying for years to get him to stop, but it never changed. All John knew was that he was happy Scott had spoken about it, how he was feeling, especially to Jeff.

The astronaut felt something slip back into place. He wasn't sure what it was, but the look Scott and his father shared was enough for John to feel relieved. The balance in the family had shifted again. Now, no matter how exhausted and sort John was, he was ready to hear Jeff's side of the story. "So Dad, you said that-"

John's dreaded question was interrupted by the appearance of Alan. The youngest Tracy burst through the door, his blonde hair and clothes ruffled from sleep. He looked lost for a moment as his blue eyes wandered. Once they locked onto Jeff and Scott, he was calm again, breathing out slowly.

"Al?" Scott sat up straight, wiping a hand over his eyes. "Is Gordon alright? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong-" Alan quickly appeased his father and brother with a wave of his hand. "I just came in to make sure you were…erm…ok."

John was the only one to understand that Alan actually meant ' _to make sure you were still here.'_ The kid had so many people leaving him lately, it was no wonder he was worried. John smiled at him. "And here I was thinking you were rushing to my bedside."

Alan looked up, eyes widening. "John!" Quickly, he slid across the floor and practically collapsed on top of him. John held back a gasp at the pressure put on his ribs. "I'm glad you're awake – I can go tell Gordy now, he'd like to know that."

"Yeah, tell him that I'd like to know he's awake too."

"I've been telling him!" Alan insisted, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "He's just leaving us hanging, as usual. He likes to see you guys sweat."

"Oh? You're not worried?"

Alan kicked his foot into the floor and shrugged. It was _very_ obvious that he was worried, but Alan was sometimes worse than Scott when it came to admitting feelings. "Nah, he'll be fine-"

"No!" John protested, louder than expected. Alan jumped. Scott's head snapped towards him. Jeff had to hide the moment of panic he felt at the exclamation. "Sorry. You're not allowed to say the word _fine_ in this room."

"Oh," Alan appeared to understand. "Gotcha. Well, you guys ok then? I just wanted to…check."

"We're f-" Scott stopped himself. "We're _alright_. Hey Al, has Virg had any sleep yet?"

"Nope. Well, he was awake when I dozed off and was in the exact same position when I woke just now. So I don't think so. He looks tired though."

Scott shifted in his chair and made to get up. "Alright, I'll talk to him-"

"No, I'll go," Jeff pushed Scott gently back into the seat and rose himself. "I need to check on Gordon. You stay with John; I'll be back if there is any news."

John narrowed his eyes. It was an avoidance technique, but one neither of the eldest could argue with. Ah well, if he didn't want to talk, then John couldn't make him. Scott probably could, but John wasn't really in the mood to see that.

"I'll come back with you," Alan said, brightening at the idea of more time with his father. Jeff nodded, but was uncertain for a moment.

John caught it and was quick to stop them. "Aw come on Al," he raised an eyebrow. "What am I? Window shopping?"

Alan looked sheepishly behind him. Glancing between the door and his father, Alan danced on his feet. He was torn between brothers, and a father, and it was hard. John tried his best at a pout. Alan rolled his eyes and begrudgingly moved back toward John's bed. "Sorry. Why can't you guys be in the same room? It'd make it easier."

"I'm too _frail_ ," John said wryly, sending a meaningful glance to his father. "Maybe when Gordon's awake."

Alan nodded and sat down next to Scott. He turned towards Jeff, "tell him I'll be back soon and not to worry about John."

John smiled at Alan's concern that Gordon needed constant company. The likelihood was that he couldn't hear anything while in his comatose state, but still, it was probably a comfort to Alan to speak to him. Jeff dipped his head in acknowledgement and left with a lingering gaze toward John.

"You guys just wanted me out of the way again, didn't you?" Alan asked pointedly once their father had left. He reserved his glare for Scott only, not feeling right to glare at his fellow astronaut.

"Just let Dad talk to Virg for a bit," Scott said softly. "Besides, you aren't in the way. You're allowed to be with Gordon."

"Yeah, yeah," Alan waved him away. "It's weird having him back, isn't it? Just now I thought I'd dreamt him…Gordon too. I only got to say a bit to him before he was taken away again…so I've been telling him everything that happened these weeks without him, so that I don't forget. And so that he knows how much it sucked not having him around."

"Keep doing that Al," Scott said approvingly, wrapping an arm around his youngest brother's shoulder. "Seriously, you have no idea how much he needs to hear that. You're definitely not in the way, ok?"

"Oh no, now I've set off the worry train," Alan rolled his eyes again. John chuckled. "Scott, I _know_ I'm in the way sometimes, and I don't mind you guys telling me that. Yesterday Gordon told me that the reason he made me stay with the 'birds was because he wanted me out of the way. I guess I was fine with that. It's when you _don't_ tell me that I get annoyed. Have a good reason for shunting me to the sidelines, or don't do it at all."

"Alright, alright. Well, I'm pretty sure you're going to have a lot more missions to take on soon. Flying One _and_ Two like you did was just…incredible. You're a fantastic pilot."

The look on Alan's face at that was priceless. Scott's praise was the perfect thing to distract him from the horror of what had happened. The youngest Tracy fell into a discussion with the eldest about how amazing it was to fly 'One and – away from Virgil's ears – how much he preferred her to flying 'Two.

John pretended to listen, but every second that went passed he was getting more and more tired. Yet he couldn't go back to sleep. Before he did that, he wanted to see Gordon. If he closed his eyes and missed _something_ , anything, it would destroy him. So John fought to stay awake for his little brother, hoping more than anything that he too would have enough strength to open his eyes.

ooooo

Something hurt, _really_ bad and he wanted it to go away. More than that, he wanted the beeping to go away. That was _really_ irritating Gordon. It didn't _sound_ like the emergency alarm, but something was beeping. Perhaps somebody had changed it after all. Gordon had been the one to suggest changing it. But he hadn't meant changing it to something that was equally as annoying.

Or _had_ he suggested changing it in the end? No, he didn't think so. It had just been a thought. As fleeting as all his other thoughts…then where was the beeping coming from?

Gordon wanted to find out, but he couldn't move. He couldn't even _try_ to move. Did he even have eyes? Or a body? Because it felt like he was just floating in nothing. It was dark, so, so dark. But why would there be beeping in this _nothing?_ Why wouldn't someone just turn it _off?_ Also, why was there pain? It hovered above him, eating away at his insides, an eternal throb, a slow burn. Was that all he had here with him? Beeping and pain?

No, there was something else.

A murmuring. Muffled words, speaking to him through a wall. Or through the floor. Or from another universe. Gordon tried to focus on what they were saying. But there were so many voices he wasn't sure how to listen. They had been flittering in and out for some time now. Some he felt he recognized, others were entirely distanced from him. The one at the moment he recognized.

" _…_ I have to go... _"_

 _That's ok, I'll be here._

 _"…_ I'll be back soon though, yeah bro? Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone. Virg is looking out for you."

Virg. Viggle? Virgil. The comfort that simple name brought Gordon was enough for him to know that he was a person. Memories flickered before blackness. Gordon tried to stir. He knew who Virgil was, Virgil was his brother. Gordon wasn't just a detached spirit wandering in darkness. He was a _person_. What did Virgil want? Did he want him to co-pilot? Co-pilot. Pilot. Gordon was a pilot. No, no he wasn't. He was an aquanaut. He was…important. Was he? Then why couldn't he move? Everything felt like it was slipping…he felt heavy, and hollow, with a growing ache in his chest…

His chest. Yes, he had a chest. And arms, and legs, and a head. It was all there, Gordon was vaguely aware of it. Gordon tried to focus on his own weight, his position. It comforted him to know he was _somewhere._ So why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he open his eyes? He just wanted to _see._ The tongue in his mouth felt dry and thick, everything else was heavy.

A voice was murmuring again. Gordon knew it this time, it was Virgil. Why was he still there? He should go. Weren't they in danger? If they were in danger he should just run, leave Gordon. Gordon would be fine here.

A figure flashed before him. The Hood. Those amber eyes glinted in the rays of light. John lay on the floor, bleeding, unmoving. Scott had been shot. Jeff was being taken away again. The Hood had Alan too, and the Thunderbirds. Was that what Gordon had to look forward to? To wake up to? He and Virgil left behind, unable to save the others…unable to stop the Hood…

A deep voice entered the room and Gordon's memories seemed to rewind. The beeping grew louder in his ears and he struggled so desperately to move. No. He _had_ stopped the Hood, hadn't he? This ache, it was the Hood's fault. Jeff was out there – he was with them. Gordon had to get to him.

But why couldn't he _move?_ The question floated out into the nothingness, a silent yet tortured scream, one that he had asked himself a lifetime ago. Nothing wanted to follow his brains orders. Nothing wanted to work. But he felt pain, which was good for once. That meant he wasn't entirely gone. Yet still…he tried to focus all his energy. Fingers, fingers were always a good place to start. He had five, now he had to try and move them, to pull himself closer to the voice…but it was hard, and Gordon was tired. Wouldn't it just be easier to sleep? If he slept, he wouldn't know that he couldn't move. Panic was rising. Something was caught in his throat. Could he breathe? Did he want to breathe?

Perhaps the nothingness was better than he thought. Perhaps that was what he wanted. Maybe he could go back there, if only someone would stop that incessant beeping.

ooooo

The steady, rhythmic sound of Gordon's heartbeat was comforting to his father. That comfort was quickly wiped away by the image of his son lying there, attached to tubes, motionless, pale. It brought so much back that Jeff would prefer not to think about. Gordon had already been through so _much._ He didn't deserve this. None of his sons did.

Jeff was greeted by a simple and heartbreaking statement from Virgil. "He's not waking up."

Virgil was sat, staring at his brother. He had his elbows on his knees and fingers interlocked together, looking as pensive as any artist ought to look. But there was no inspiration in his eyes, no creative flicker, just a tired sorrow.

"Virgil," Jeff said softly, knowing all too well with his experience with Scott that the boys were not feeling as strong as they made out to be. "He's only been out of surgery for a few hours – he's not meant to wake up yet."

"Yes he is," Virgil looked at his father with a flat expression. "The surgeon said it should have worn off by now. But he's just not waking up."

"He will."

"Not if he doesn't want to."

Jeff flinched. He had heard everything Scott and Virgil had said about their brother. That was only confirmed by what John had told him. He never thought that his absence would lead to such divisions in the family – it was a scary thought. But Jeff also knew his disappearance wasn't the sole cause of the separations. Gordon's mood drop, his misdirected thinking, and then _his_ disappearance was as much a problem as Jeff's. Any one of the Tracy's slip out of line, and things are bound to go wrong.

"What if it was me? What if it was something I did wrong?" Virgil asked, still staring into nothing.

Jeff shook his head. "It _wasn't._ You _saved_ him."

"I _tried._ "

"You trying was all he needed."

Virgil gave a small nod. Jeff knew that he understood this wasn't his fault, that it never _could_ be his fault.

Sighing, Jeff stared down at Gordon. He wondered how long these thoughts had been building in his second youngest. Perhaps it had been while he was still around. The beep of the monitor filled the room alongside the slow whirr of its machine. These background noises got rid of the silence – something Jeff was grateful for. He had been subjected to silence for far too long lately, and he didn't want it anymore.

Before the crash there were times at Tracy Island when all Jeff would want was quiet. Quiet from Gordon's excitement and exuberance, his constant pestering - but now he wanted it back. He _needed_ the laughter and light that practically radiated from his fourth son. Happiness was a gift that came naturally to Gordon. To learn that it had been disappearing, that he had been dwindled down to think he was worthless, was more than torture.

Of course throughout his time away, Jeff had been picturing scenarios of what was happening with his boys. The idea of a dangerous rescue didn't scare him much – not with Scott in charge, not if they were working together. But something like this? It was unstoppable. Ideas like these were a disease that grew, and somehow they had latched onto Gordon.

"John's awake…" Jeff said slowly, both for Virgil's benefit and for Gordon's.

Virgil looked up at this and nodded, but there was no sign of a change in demeanor. "I'm glad. I'll go to him soon."

Jeff didn't know what to say. He looked at Virgil and he saw his son, Lucille's boy, her artist, her musician, her placid temper. Virgil was his engineer, the one that was always there with a calming word or a piece of advice. The boy who had surprised them all by turning into a moody teenager that shut himself off from the world – it had come from nowhere, and it left out of nowhere too. Jeff knew him. He knew _all_ his sons. Yet he had this hesitance, this uncertainty about speaking to them again…it was strange. When John had asked him if it was weird, Jeff had known what he meant. It _was_ weird, and he had no idea what to _say._ "Scott and Alan are with him."

"Good."

Silence.

 _Beep._ Jeff lowered himself into a seat next to Gordon's bed. He grabbed for his son's hand, running his thumb gently up and down the back of it.

 _Beep._ What if Gordon _was_ paralyzed? The thought nearly killed him the first time, what would it do to him now, in his mindset?

 _Beep._ What if Virgil was right? What if he didn't want to wake up?

 _Beep._ Had Jeff started this?

 _Beep._ Had these thoughts been happening while he was still around?

 _Beep._ What if he never got a chance to speak with him again? What if the last thing he heard were the Hood's words? Oh hell, what had he said?

 _Beep._ Expendable.

Expendable, that had been what the Hood had called him. That monster had told Gordon that his father had _said_ that. Jeff never said that, he never even thought that for a single second. "You're not expendable…" he said softly. "I…"

But that was all he could say.

The words got stuck; everything else he wanted to get out was thrown behind a wall. Alan said Gordon listened to him. But who would listen to a father that couldn't think of the words to say to his children? Who didn't want to tell them what had happened, who wanted to _avoid_ them just to avoid the memories? The vivid threats the Hood had been yelling at him for the past months had been truly realised yesterday. Now he had a broken family to put back together. But how would he do that when he was broken himself?

Virgil, in his true intuitive style, leant towards his brother. He knew his father was struggling with words. Well, so was he. Perhaps they could do this together. "I've told him that already, haven't I Gordy? But you won't listen to me."

 _Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Do you remember that time we went camping in the Bora woods…?" Virgil asked slowly, directing the question to both his brother and father. Jeff tilted his head in thought. "I was in my last year of high school, bogged down with college applications, and my girlfriend was planning on going to England to study."

"Oh _yes_ ," Jeff found himself recalling that particular summer, one of many moody nights and slammed doors. Words he struggled to find were now easily on his tongue. "Trust me, I remember. To make it worse Scott had an assignment that summer so couldn't come home, and you were _furious_."

"Damn right I was, he was supposed to help me! Give me advice; help me move in, all of that stuff. I remember John came home and didn't have the slightest interest –he just wanted to talk to you about NASA," the slight tinge of playful disgust in his tone made Jeff smile. He knew where this story was going.

"I was spending a couple weeks in Tokyo as well, and I decided to take John." Jeff added, eyes flickering towards the roof in thought. "You were horrified when I told you the dates because you'd planned to visit one of the colleges but now had to help your Grandmother look after your irritating younger brothers."

"You hear that Gords?" Virgil nudged Gordon's arm. "Irritating? Dad admits it!"

"He does it on purpose."

"Uh oh bud, he figured you out."

Jeff chuckled quietly, squeezing Gordon's hand. " _Everyone's arguing, Virgil's sad, we have to do something fun with him, because if he doesn't remember us as being fun and happy, he won't want to come back._ That's what he said to me when proposing the camping trip."

" _Really?_ " Virgil looked at his younger brother. "Gords, I would have come back even if it wasn't fun. I was just angry at the world. But I'm glad you organized that for me…it was an amazing trip, even if one of our tents had a hole in it so we all had to squish into one."

Jeff let out a laugh at the memory. Gordon had been so keen for the trip that nothing would stop him. Jeff had said 'no' at least twenty times before the hyperactive enthusiasm just became too much. He was also fed up with Virgil's grumpiness and annoyed at Scott for not coming home. Somehow, Gordon worked his magic and forced them together again.

It had rained heavily those three days, but the boys had traipsed through mud with smiles on their faces. It had been a long time since they were all home at once, and Jeff was just happy to see them happy. At one point Alan had fallen into the swollen river but was quickly rescued by his water extraordinaire brother. Then one night they found all their gear was soaked in one of the tents and – even with John's insistence that he would much rather sleep under the stars – they had managed to fit all six of them inside one tent. To others it might have dampened the mood, but not to the Tracy's, especially not to Gordon. "I'll never forget the look on your face when we surprised you with Scott…" Jeff said, now focusing his attention on Virgil. He smiled that infectious smile which reminded Virgil so much of his brother.

Virgil nodded and smiled wistfully, remembering the moment. "Yeah, to this day I still don't know how the fish got Scott to come along."

"Well Gordon pretty much personally canceled all my meetings in Tokyo to get _me_ to come. He's an insistent one, I'll give him that."

"You were always there to remind us about family, huh Gordo?" Virgil leant back against his chair and studied his younger brother forlornly. "I don't know how you could possibly think that we'd still be one without you."

Jeff felt his smile fade at Virgil's comment. No, he was _right._ They all played their role in International Rescue, sure. Without Gordon they had no aquanaut, _fine._ But that wasn't half as important as what they would be like as a family without him. Jeff leant forward, squeezing Gordon's hand tighter. "Son, listen to me. Allie says you listen – I know that is _not_ true, but I want you to do it now. John's awake. He's awake in the other room and he's asking about you…Scott's waiting too, he's…he's _desperate_ to talk to you. Virgil's here with me, he hasn't left your side, he won't sleep…"

 _Beep._

Virgil didn't interrupt, just watched his father with a darkened expression.

 _Beep._

"Alan's been talking to you; he'll be back any minute now. N-now _listen_ to me, I know that you thought getting me back and shooting the Hood would make everything ok. But it hasn't, and it _won't_. The only thing that will make everything even slightly resemble our family, is if you come back to us too. We can go from there…"

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

" _I need_ you Gordon," Jeff whispered, feeling his throat tighten as Gordon's small form remained unresponsive. "You got me away from the Hood, _you_ did that. But I need you to be whole for me to be ok. Do you understand? Do you even hear me? God, what the hell am I saying?"

Virgil had got to his feet and moved around to his father's side. A steadying hand was on Jeff's shoulder, and there were so many things he wanted to say to Virgil in that moment.

But then his heart stopped.

Not Gordon's, the heart monitor continued to beep away calmly. But Jeff's – it stopped as he felt movement in his hand, only the tiniest flicker as a finger drew across his palm. But Jeff knew what he felt – just as Gordon had known what he heard over the phone that day. Jeff squeezed back tightly and felt something he hadn't felt in a long time – joy. "Virgil, get the Doctor and your brothers."

Virgil looked at him but never questioned.

"He's waking up."

ooooo


	14. Chapter 14

It took all of Gordon's effort to move that _damn_ finger. Now he was exhausted. He was _more_ than exhausted; it was like all the spirit had seeped out of him with that single flicker of movement. He had done it though. He had done it for his father. But now the aquanaut was shattered. Every fiber of his being was concentrated into shifting his finger ever so slightly, a small, insignificant movement…

But it was a start. Gordon could move his fingers _._ Some people might think that irrelevant, but to him it was groundbreaking, miraculous, and - even better - for a moment it distracted him from the horrible pain in his chest.

Jeff's voice was a hum. His words became muffled like he was speaking to him through a wall of cotton wool, but Gordon absorbed the feeling behind them. Happiness. He was happy. Gordon liked making people happy, that was his job. Wasn't that what John had said? _If you're not smiling nobodies smiling._ Well, Gordon wasn't smiling now. He couldn't even feel his face.

Wait.

John. Tall… irritatingly handsome…smart about boring things…recently tortured by the Hood. John. Johnny. Was he alright? Was he here? Gordon's thoughts were slipping again, facts, meanings…

There were footsteps. The noise was so loud in Gordon's head that it jolted him out of his state. Urgent feet pounded against lino. It thumped against his mind, making him more alert than before. Lots of footsteps. Why were these people running? It'd be pretty boring to stand around watching him. Voices. More voices. Gee, couldn't a guy get some rest around here? With all these people and that damn _beeping_ silence just didn't exist.

One of the voices was babbling excitedly, too fast for Gordon's mind to keep up. The aquanaut swore he heard an 'I told you so' thrown into the mix. Nice one Alan. Another person was muttering something. They were close to Gordon, their whispered words smooth and reassuring…Virg was still there? How long had he been there? How long had _Gordon_ been here? Weeks, months, decades? Was he old? No, time was barely even a concept to him now, but he knew it hadn't been long.

The absence of a voice disturbed Gordon. Scott. Where was he?

A voice – entirely foreign to his confused ears – caught his attention. "Alright Gordon, your father said he felt you moving? Could you do it again please, or open your eyes? If you can hear me do whatever movement you are comfortable with."

Open his _eyes?_ Hell, a finger was one thing, eyes were entirely different.

Gordon wasn't sure that he could.

Desperately he tried to focus on those around him. The figures, their presences, he could feel them better than he could feel his own. Somehow he knew Alan was standing, hovering anxiously and excitedly at the same time. Alan. _Focus on Alan, when you open your eyes, you're gonna see him._ But the more Gordon tried the harder it became.

Nothing was moving. His brain didn't even feel like it was attached to his body. _Why?_ This couldn't happen again, it just _couldn't._

A moan escaped him. It was cracked and thin; barely even a whisper, but they all heard it. Gordon could tell by the audible gasp that passed around the room.

"It's alright son," Jeff's voice was low and soft, Gordon could hear it now. The cotton wool was dissolving around his head, fizzling away to painful clarity. Everything was _too_ loud now, he was _too_ aware. "I know you moved your finger – I felt _it._ I know you can do this."

Jeff was telling him that he could do this?

Was he even there?

Was Gordon dreaming?

Frustration threatened to boil over. Gordon wanted to scream, and kick, and tear the tubes from his arms. Wait, his arms. Ok, there were tubes in his arms. How did he know that? Because they were freaking annoying, that's why. So he could feel them then? Yes. He could feel them. Good. So he could move his fingers, and feel his arms, that meant his upper body _should_ be working. Right?

"Come on Gords…" Virgil's small, broken, yet still somewhat melodic voice reached his ears. The last time Gordon heard the artist sound like that was when they heard about Jeff's crash. Not _good._ So Virgil was not happy…as time moved on Jeff's happiness was fading too…even Alan's bubbly words had stopped. They were all waiting with baited breath. Waiting for _him._ Gordon had to fight this. He had to do it for all of them. But it was so _hard_ and he was _so_ tired. Not just physically but mentally. The strength had just left him, his adrenaline and panic had bled him dry.

But Tracy's didn't give up. The man sitting next to him was a perfect example. Gordon knew how to push himself further than anybody, so now he was going to push himself. Drawing energy from everything that remained inside him, Gordon forced himself to focus. It was just a simple flicker and they'd be open. Gordon focused on his brothers. He needed to see them.

One, two, three…

Gordon's eyelids flickered. Somebody squeezed his hand. Ok _good_ , he felt that too.

"Nearly there!" Alan's voice filled with such _faith_ in him was enough to push Gordon over the edge.

His heavy eyelids lifted open, sending a blast of blinding light to fill his vision. The darkness was gone. There was a cheer from Alan and a muttered _thank heaven_ from Virgil. Everything was blurry. Now that Gordon had his eyelids open, the hard part was keeping them up. Blinking slowly, shapes began to shift into place.

Alan was grinning at him like a lunatic, standing at the end of his bed. Gordon wanted to say something to him but found he couldn't open his mouth. All he could do was make a small croaking noise. Panic bubbled in Gordon's chest, his breathing growing quicker. _Ouch._ As his chest rose and fell faster, the pain grew.

"Woah hey – take it easy," that was Virgil. Gordon could hear him; he was to the left of him. But no matter how hard he tried, the aquanaut couldn't move his neck. Why couldn't he shift his head? Did he have a neck brace on? Why was this happening? All he wanted to do was see _Virgil._

Eyes flickering around madly to try and _see_ his brother, they landed on a different one instead. Scott _was_ there – filling in John's position as silent shadow. He was watching from the corner of the room, arms folded across his chest, eyes studying Gordon intently. Gordon wanted him to move closer. He wanted to be able to read what his older brother was thinking. Was that concern? Gordon tried to lift his arm to draw Scott closer, but all he could manage was another flick of a finger. No. _What was happening?_

Gordon was unaware of the tears that sprang to his eyes.

There was a choked noise from the opposite side. "You did it again –" Jeff whispered. He sounded so damn _pleased._ But Gordon was getting more frustrated.

 _It's just a finger Dad – what about the rest of me? What about the important parts of me?_ Gordon wanted to scream at him. More than that, he wanted to scream at him to move. Because Gordon couldn't _see_ his father. He couldn't shift his stupid _head_ to see him, but that's all that he wanted. To know that he was actually there, that Gordon had done something right…

His expression must have twisted. Or perhaps he made another noise. Either way, Scott knew what he was thinking. How did Scott always _know?_ Was there really a moment where Gordon thought that he hated him? That he couldn't trust him? "Dad – he can't see you," Scott's words were purposefully thin, "he's really there bud, don't fret."

"Oh - of course," there was a shuffle. Jeff got to his feet and maneuvered his body closer to the bed.

Gordon could see him now. He could see all the bruises and scars dotted across him, the Hood's artwork, but he didn't care about that. It was still their father. In that weary face Gordon saw the man that dealt with his tantrums throughout the years, who spent many hours in the principal's office with him, who pretty much pulled him out of school when the teachers complained he had ADHD. Jeff was the father that encouraged his importance of movement, the one that pretended not to cry at the Olympics, that was there every day after hydrofoil…

Gordon didn't see the scars. He saw his father. Just as Jeff didn't see the tubes, or the wounds, or the lack of movement. He saw his son.

"Why did it have to be you?" Jeff murmured. Alan laughed. Scott smiled. His words – the phrase used so often about Gordon- stole his breath and the heat from his skin. Gordon's defenses turned to paper. Nothing but weak and flimsy walls that were torn away by Jeff's very presence. Before he could draw more air, tears were spilling down Gordon's cheeks. "I…" an overcome murmur was all he could muster. He couldn't say anything. He couldn't move. But in that tiny second it didn't matter, not if Jeff was there, and his brothers.

"Shh hey, it's alright, you're awake now –"Jeff's squeezed his hand tightly, eyes never leaving Gordon's direct stare. "I'm right here."

Gordon couldn't _move_ his stare that's why it was so freaking _direct._ His mouth opened, but his tongue was so thick and heavy that nothing was coming out. His mouth felt like it was filled with sandpaper. Gordon pushed himself to try and get his legs to move. Ok, so he could _feel_ his torso, the worsening pain in his chest was enough of a signifier of that…but he couldn't feel his legs. It chilled him to the bone that he couldn't feel them. They were there, he could see them, but nothing told him that they were his.

Choking on a sob, Gordon felt the panic rise again. It was worse this time. He wanted to wriggle away from his father's comforting grasp. It was all so confusing. Everything hurt, but at the same time, he felt nothing. It was just a horridly stuck sensation – like he was in a dream where someone was chasing him, but he wasn't able to move. It was exactly like that but a thousand times worse because it was _real._ Damn his body. Damn it to all hell.

"I c-can't…" the words sounded croaky and strange to his ears, like they belonged to someone else. But the startled expression on his brother and fathers faces said he didn't imagine it.

"Shh, don't try to speak yet," Jeff's words were infuriatingly calm. He ran a hand down Gordon's cheek gently. "You've done enough, this was enough."

"He's right Gords, look at you, you'll be all healed in no _time_ ," Alan was back to bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Gordon desperately tried to shake his head. This _wasn't_ enough. He had to move, until he moved he wouldn't rest. "No. _N-no…_ Dad…I c-can't _m…move…_ "

Alarm flashed in Jeff's eyes. "Yes you can. You opened your eyes; you can move your fingers. That's enough for now my love; just…just…take it easy. You can't expect to be back to full function straight away after what happened."

 _What happened?_ Gordon was shot wasn't he? That was it. He didn't hurt his back. Well, he didn't remember hurting his back. What was going on? Why was this happening? Oh god, now it felt like he couldn't breathe. Not again…Chest rising and falling sharply, the panic was laced through his words. "N-no…Virg…Virg are you there? I c-can't feel my legs…h _elp-"_ Tears were flowing freely now, but they weren't ones of relief, but of terror. The heart rate on the monitor was heightening as Gordon felt his breath get caught in his throat.

"Sir, please move out of the way," the foreign voice was back. Jeff was pushed away from his line of sight. Gordon was straining now, his chest was aching, black spots were dancing before his vision, and he still couldn't move…There was a clatter as someone got to their feet. Virgil slipped into Gordon's sight range for a single moment, but then hurried out of the room, one arm brought up to his face.

Exhausted, Gordon felt himself slipping; desperately trying to remember his families faces before his exhaustion encompassed him.

ooooo

Sometimes, Scott hated having such a big family.

No, who was he kidding; Scott loved them all and couldn't imagine life without any of them. No matter how many tantrums he had to deal with, or fights he had to break up, it was all worth it, and he wouldn't take it any other way.

It _was_ hard, however, when the eldest was pulled in so many directions. Jeff had sunk back into his seat, face pale, Gordon's limp hand clenched in his own as the doctor leant Gordon's body. The relief at his sons awakening had been quickly wiped away by the panic attack that followed. Alan too appeared to still be in a state of shock, staring at Gordon with a strangely betrayed expression. His hands were rubbing nervously against one another- a clear sign that both tense and frustrated energy was building in the youngest Tracy.

But what had they expected? For Gordon to wake up with a smile on his face? For him to be instantly ok? No, Scott wasn't shocked by the reaction at all. He remembered Gordon's first response after the hydrofoil accident - he remembered it because he and Jeff had been the only one's there. The doctors hadn't expected the aquanaut to wake so soon, but Gordon being Gordon had defied all the odds.

It had been one of the worst moments of Scott's life – to hear Gordon say he'd rather die than not be able to move. But that was the first _moment_ , things had got better. Scott had to remember that. He had to hold onto that, or it might be too much for him as well.

Scott wanted to go to both of them. His father needed him. His little brother needed him. Gordon needed him. Scott wasn't exactly sure he was the appropriate person to be needed at the moment, not when he was a mess himself. But he was torn in different directions and it pained him that he couldn't be with them all at once. However, Scott had to make a choice. One person needed him more in that moment than all of them, and Scott's feet were already leading him towards them.

Striding forward, a solution cleared its way. Scott squeezed Alan's shoulder and leant in close, "Hey kid, stay with Dad and Gords. Talk to them yeah? I'll be back in a bit. I've gotta…go after Virg."

Alan nodded, straightening at this important 'order' given to him by his brother. The youngest Tracy darted over to their father, a cheery expression moving onto his face as he went on exclaiming about how well Gordon had just done.

With a heavy heart Scott walked out into the corridor. Virgil hadn't been able to handle it, and Scott understood. It was so hard for the medic to just be helpless around his brothers. Virgil's huge empathy was a quality that Scott always marveled at; it was what made him such a passionate and understanding person. But it also brought him closer to people's pain and suffering. He endured these feelings alone most of the time until they just became too much. Even when they did overflow, he didn't admit it. The artist would leave the room so that others didn't have to empathize with _him._ So that others didn't have to experience what he was going through. It was overwhelming compassion that pushed the middle brother over the edge.

He was standing alone in the corridor, lingering outside the door to John's room. Only now and again would a doctor or nurse scuttle past as the early hours of the morning broke. Virgil's back was turned, like he was waiting for permission to enter John's room. But Scott could see his shoulders visibly shaking.

Scott frowned and moved towards him. Damn, he hated this. He _wanted_ to share his brothers' pain. He'd take it all from them if he could.

"Virgil…" Scott kept his voice low as he reached a hand out toward his shoulder. As much as he encouraged his brothers to talk to _him,_ Virgil was quite a private person. Well, not as private as John. In a way he was worse than John. The astronaut at least had his blunt honesty on his side, whereas Virgil liked to spare people anything that would make them feel worse. Therefore he would try to hide any indication that he was upset. Especially hide it from Scott. But Scott always knew anyway.

Virgil shrugged him off. "Someone should tell John," he said, words barely a whisper. "I…I haven't even seen him yet, I've been too busy watching Gords, do you think he'll mind?"

"No, he understands." Scott couldn't help but sound unbelieving at Virgil's attempt to distract Scott from his distress. "Is that why you ran off? You feel guilty about John?"

"S-sure." Virgil's voice broke. He took a deep breath but the shudder in it was painfully audible.

Scott sighed. Why did Virgil constantly insist on bottling himself up? He was a man that worked on emotion, that sensed it better than anyone, but not in himself. "Look at me -"

" _No._ Just give me a second-" Virgil sniffed. He brought his arm up to his face and wiped at his eyes. "I'll be back with you all in a bit, ok? I just need a moment."

"Virg."

"Scott, I'm _fine._ Just…just go back."

Scott gave a small chuckle. He reached out his hand again and laid it gently on the artists shoulder. "Don't say _fine_ so close to John's room. He might hear you."

"What?" Virgil didn't shrug him away this time.

"You can ask him later," slowly, Scott pushed his brother so that he was facing him.

Virgil glanced at him briefly, expression filled with a pure anguish that Scott hadn't seen in quite a while. It shimmered in his dark eyes before he looked down at his feet, squeezing his eyes shut. "I knew it was going to happen Scotty…I shouldn't have moved him so quickly but I didn't think there would be any time."

"You couldn't have known anything for sure," Scott murmured softly. "I know you did what you thought was right. We all trusted you, and you saved him. Ok? You got him _here._ "

"Why is it always up to me?" Virgil's head dropped lower in both a sign of defeat and exhaustion. Scott knew that even when he dozed off for a while, Virgil had always been up. He didn't sleep for a second and he didn't leave Gordon's side. The adrenaline was well and truly worn off now so the artist was practically working off nerves. "I love being able to heal – don't get me wrong, and I know you guys are all basically trained…but sometimes it's too much for me. This…p-pressure…" Virgil raised a shaky hand to his chest. "I was the only one that could make that decision to move Gordon…and it was hard, _really_ hard…now if he never moves again he'll blame me-"

" _Never_ moves again? Woah now Virg, slow down!" Scott shook his head and steadied his brother. "Gordon would _not_ like to hear you say that. He's only just woken up – there's no way he was going to be able to move everything straight away. Hell, I'm pretty pleased with that finger! It's still _very_ early stages here. Don't get all doom and gloom on me."

"Right…" Virgil bit his lip. "But…did you see how afraid he was? Did you see how terrified his eyes were when he said he couldn't move his legs? I know after the accident Gords always played off paralysis like it was no big deal but…it's what scares him most. To think that I might have put him…in that situation again…" Virgil quickly drew his hand up to his mouth as tears threatened to break out again.

Scott stepped forward and locked his arms around his brother. Virgil buried his head into Scott's shoulder for a moment. It was very rare for Virgil to cry – even rarer for him to do it around someone else. But these were not normal circumstances, and Scott knew exactly how he was feeling. "Of course he's afraid, and confused, but that's not on you. We'll help him, won't we?"

"O-of course. It's just…he told _me_ that his legs weren't working. _Me._ "

"I know… because you're right, he was scared. The idea that you were there comforted him."

"But…I suppose."

Gently pulling away, Scott kept his hands firmly on the artists shoulder. "Virg, he's _alive_ isn't he?" Scott couldn't help but break into a smile. "He's a survivor. We all are. Dad's alive, Johnny's alive…we're all _here._ "

There was a pause as Virgil's expression darkened. He didn't share an ounce of his brother's happiness. "Yeah, but if we weren't? If the Hood had killed you and Johnny straight off the bat – if he had taken Dad? I would have been left behind. You just drove _off_ , with no plan, nothing…I could have come with you. I _should_ have come with you-"

Scott quickly cut him off. Now they had reached the true point of frustration. "No. I had to leave Gordon and Al with you-"

"You could have left them with _John!_ "

"Yes I _could_ have but I'm glad I didn't. John did exactly what I would have done, he was… _is_ so strong Virg. Stronger than I ever realised."

Virgil glared at him. "Are you saying I _wouldn't_ have lasted?"

"No, I'm saying if you were there the Hood would have _all_ the information on International Rescue by now."

"What? You think I would have said _something?_ "

"No! _I_ would have said something you idiot. Seriously, I was at breaking point with Johnny, and the further down the line we go the worse it gets…Why do you guys want to throw yourselves into danger all the time? It's not good for me."

"We follow by example…" Virgil muttered, a peculiar expression crossing his face. "You would have given up the information for me?"

Scott shrugged it off like it was nothing, though in reality he had no idea how it would have turned out. "John probably would too… and Dad."

"…you think I'm not strong?"

"No it's not that. I know you're strong. It was just safer for you to stay-"

" _Safer?_ Scott just stop." Virgil held up a hand. "l have had to sit by and watch while _all_ my stupid brothers did _stupid things._ First you race off to New York _alone_ with five minutes notice, and then you dump an unstable Gordon in my arms while you and John go gallivanting after the most dangerous criminal mastermind International Rescue has ever _encountered_. Then my little brothers force me to go after you-"

"Force you?"

"Then Gordon goes insane, drags me around an underground lair and decides he's on a mission to become a martyr. All the while I've been trying to get you all to slow down and _think_ for once in your damn lives, but nobody ever listens to _me._ Do they Scott?" Breathing heavily, Virgil's anguish had been replaced by anger.

Scott opened his mouth to say something. He hadn't even thought of it that way. Virgil was his rock – he was everyone's rock, he was always there to balance the chaos with the calm. When Scott left him behind, he just knew he was leaving things in safe hands. In capable hands. Virgil liked to take things slow – so what happens when they're all moving too fast for him to keep up? "Oh man I didn't even-"

"I know," Virgil sighed, reading Scott's apology before it was out of his mouth. His frown wavered as he looked toward John's room. "I-I can't even be angry with you. Upset maybe, but not angry."

"I just wanted to protect you…and the others," Scott said softly. It was all he ever tried to do. "Didn't turn out very well."

"No. Does it ever? They don't want protecting."

"I know."

"Seriously, I tried too."

"Yeah?"

"They threatened to hijack 'Two."

"They _what?_ "

"My reaction exactly…" Virgil sighed heavily, running both hands through his ruffled hair. "Ah hell Scott, I'm such a mess."

"You're overtired…" Scott said warily. "We're _all_ a mess if I'm honest. But I really am sorry for what I put you through. You know I'd never hurt you intentionally. I got caught up in the moment, like always I suppose. Some part of me still thinks it was a good idea…the other part knows it was a bad one. I'll never be able to figure out which it was."

"Because that would mean deciding between finding Dad or Gordon getting shot."

"Exactly."

Virgil hesitated, looking up and down the empty corridor. Early morning rays of sun were beginning to stream through the windows. "I don't…I'm not sure I want to go back in there. Not yet."

"That's ok. I understand." Scott said gently. He did understand. Perhaps the eldest Tracy would have stayed with Virgil if he didn't think it was so important for him to be by Gordon's side. Scott took responsibility for all of this happening – not just the events of the day, but the aquanaut's mindset, him leaving, _everything._ No matter how many times Jeff or John told him it wasn't his fault it still wouldn't change anything. Scott, as commander, as older brother, was inherently responsible. So that meant Scott had to be around to fix it.

"Everything ok out here?" Jeff's shadowy figure startled them both. Scott turned quickly to come face to face with a more composed Jeff. Perhaps Virgil's departure had triggered something in him, or maybe it was because Alan had been given babysitting duty. Either way, he held himself higher, his head raised, eyes hard. There was a part of him that still wanted to hang back and figure out where he fit now. Scott could tell by the flicker of uncertainty when their gazes met. Indecision didn't suit the Tracy patriarch considering the fact that a stubborn – yet kind – assertiveness was what defined him as a leader and father. Luckily, that hesitance was gone when Jeff looked toward Virgil. "Virg?"

"Yeah I'm just…" Virgil looked down at his feet in hope that Jeff wouldn't notice his eyes. "We were talking. Is Gordon…?"

"Asleep again. Should be out for a while now, but he did well…" a smile graced Jeff's lips briefly but was gone in an instant as he realised Virgil didn't share his pleasure. With a gaze as intense as John's their father studied his middle son. It was a stare that could search souls, and Scott had many a time been on the receiving end. "Are you going to get some rest now?"

Virgil shook his head. Scott made a displeased noise but let his father handle it. To his surprise, Jeff didn't argue with the artist. "Then how about you and I go get some coffee? I am in desperate need of it. You look like your swaying."

Virgil looked up, dark eyebrows drawing together. "It will be hospital coffee. You hate hospital coffee."

"I haven't _had_ coffee in a long time. It will taste like heaven no matter what."

"That's true. I don't suppose they serve anything stronger?"

Jeff chuckled. The sound surprised Scott, so much so that he found himself smiling too. Jeff thought about it for a moment, "No, I don't think so. I'll be looking forward to that when we all get back to the Island."

"If there's any left," Virgil's frown softened as he looked towards Scott. "I might have told him where you kept it."

"Betrayal," Jeff clicked his tongue against his teeth in playful disappointment. He placed an arm Virgil's shoulder and steered him in the direction of the exit from the private wing. "You'll be alright here Scott? We'll be back in a moment."

Virgil looked startled at having been moved, and also at the fact he didn't really have a choice in where he was going. Scott smiled. Maybe some of the famous assertiveness was returning. "Of course. I'll sit with Gords."

Jeff dipped his head in thanks and father and son walked off in the opposite direction. Scott stared after them for a while, glad that Jeff had taken that initiative. If Virgil needed anything right now, it was a talk with their father, and Jeff knew that. Even if it was hard for him – which Scott suspected it was – then it was good he was pushing himself.

Ducking into John's room, Scott found the astronaut fast asleep. John had a strange way of sleeping where he lay perfectly still and straight as though arranged in a coffin. Having a mini heart attack the eldest Tracy had to check he _was_ actually still breathing. Scott was glad he was resting but at the same time felt selfishly disappointed. There was nothing like a discussion with John to make him see clearly again. Making a mental note to go back in half an hour in case he woke, Scott left 'sleeping beauty' (as he'd been dubbed by the tinies) to his slumber.

Feeling like he was playing musical brothers, Scott made his way to Gordon's room. Alan was humming softly from the chair next to his closest brother's bed. Gordon was peaceful now too, though it unnerved Scott more because usually the aquanaut was an extremely restless sleeper. Even in dream land he wanted to be constantly moving. "Hey buddy," Scott wasn't really sure who he was directing the comment too. "We ok?"

"Yeah, we're fine," Alan answered for both of them anyway. "Aren't we Gordy?"

Scott smiled at his youngest brother. "You never doubt him, do you kid?"

"Never!" Alan beamed in his direction, hitting Gordon softly on the arm. "That would break the code of brotherhood. Besides, I figured someone's gotta be positive around here while Gordon's out of action. Otherwise we'd be stuck with a whole lot of worrying sad sacks. And John, but he's kind of out of action too. Gords doesn't need negative energy around him. He absorbs happiness."

"You make him sound like a sponge."

Alan snorted. "He practically is one."

Scott rolled his eyes, but Alan's words resounded in his mind. The kid was right. Gordon _did_ thrive best in jovial situations, so why should they change it now? Scott sighed, wondering when Alan had somehow become unintentionally smarter than him. It was quite a talent.

Alan leant closer towards Gordon. "You know what I was thinking? You'd probably still be able to beat me at that stupid game."

Scott lifted an eyebrow.

Alan acted as though his brother had answered. "You can only move one finger and you'd still win. Proves how rotten I am at it."

It took a lot for Alan to admit he was bad at something. Scott was rather impressed, even if he didn't have a clue what he was going on about. "He'll be able to move more than that, don't worry."

Alan shrugged. "I'm not worried."

"Seriously Al, you don't have to pretend-"

"I'm not pretending Scott," Alan rolled his eyes toward Gordon as though his partner in crime could actually see him. "You hearing this Gee? He's trying to get me aboard the smother train too. But don't worry, I won't change sides. My allegiance will always be with the rebel alliance."

" _Alan_ ," In effort to get his brother to talk to him, Scott ducked around to his side of the bed. It was a very Alan tactic to brush serious questions off with space references. "I'm not the empire here buddy, you can tell me if you're upset. I won't chop your hand off."

"But…I'm _not_ ," Alan looked up at him, that innocent expression so endearing, but also simultaneously frustrating. "I thought he might not wake up – but he did. He could see, he could speak, he was a little freaked out but we'll get over that. I remember hydrofoil. I remember that he hated pity and sorrow, so I'm not gonna give him that. I'm just gonna tell really bad jokes until he has to wake up again to join in."

"…When did you get so mature huh?"

"What have bad jokes got to do with being mature?" Alan shrugged and leant forward. "Besides, Dad's back. How can I _not_ be happy?"

Scott nodded, feeling guilty that he didn't quite feel the same way. "He seem ok to you?"

"Who? Dad? Yeah he seemed fine. We talked for ages – he's the same as Gordy, he doesn't want pity, or worry. I think he just wants distraction, so I was telling him _all_ about our rescues that we've been doing. Knowing that we've still been helping people makes him happy. Ya know, the reminder that there's still good in the world, and all that sickening stuff."

Scott nodded, though internally he was hoping Alan wasn't giving their father more reason to doubt his commanding abilities. He was about to ask him something else when the youngest turned the tables on him. "Are _you_ ok?"

"I…" Scott was not used to being asked that question. "Yeah…I think so. For the most part."

"By 'f _or the most part'_ you mean _'freaking out about Gordon, John, Dad and Virg'_ right?"

"Well yeah, that's kind of normal for me. Except your names usually on there."

"It's not at the moment though, right?"

Scott smiled at him. Surprisingly, no, he wasn't worried about Alan. He really needed to give the youngster more credit for handling situations like these. Not that they arose very often. "Nah, you're easy."

Alan nodded, as though he had completed a very important job. Operation 'get Scott not to worry for once' was a success. Scott smiled and sat down next to his brother. Never before in his life had he wished he could be more like Alan. Right now though…the kid had the right attitude. One day he was going to compete for top spot on International Rescue's piloting ranks as well, so perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing to aspire to be like little Tracy.

No, even with all the worry and stress that came with the job, Scott would never give up being eldest. A couple weeks ago he might have been thinking different, but not now, not when his family truly needed him.

Alan and Scott sat next to one another in silence for quite a while. At the half hour point Scott made good on his promise and went to check on John, who was still sleeping. He did the same every half hour after that, until three hours had passed and neither Jeff nor Virgil had returned. But that didn't concern Scott very much. The idea that the artist and their father were locked into some time consuming conversation was comforting – it was what they both needed, a distraction, as Alan had put it.

There was no sign of re-awakening from Gordon, so Alan was getting restless. Every now and again he would get up and go for a walk down the hall, or hunt down a vending machine, or visit John even if Scott had just been. As an older brother, Scott had a bit of patience. Alan didn't really have any.

So when Jeff finally returned, Alan was quick to jump to his feet. "Dad!"

Jeff raised an eyebrow at the enthusiastic greeting. He looked visibly more relaxed, even if the worry was still evident when he looked towards Gordon. Scott wondered if it was the coffee or the talk with Virgil that had him calm down. " _Alan_ ," Jeff attempted to sound as equally enthusiastic. Scott chuckled. "All fine here?"

"Yes sir, this one's getting jumpy though."

"I am not!"

Jeff smiled at Alan's tone. "Virgil's with John. They're both ok I think…for now anyway-"

"Wait, John's awake?" Scott couldn't help but sound annoyed. "Anyone would think he's been avoiding me…"

Alan laughed. "Maybe he has, I try to avoid you when you're in smother mode."

"Well thanks Al."

"No problem."

Jeff smiled at them both before sitting himself down next to Alan. The waiting game commenced again. Scott spent the rest of the morning flittering between his brother's rooms. He even had time to eat breakfast which was a positive. Virgil and John would be silently enjoying one another's company whenever he visited, while Jeff and Alan were talking about everything and anything the youngest could think of. Scott was the wanderer for once – taking comfort in just observing them all, and knowing they were alright.

When noon came, Grandma Tracy arrived. Scott was in awe of how well she handled the situation. She bypassed Jeff completely in favor of seeing John and Gordon. The former had been very much awake at her visit, but Gordon remained unresponsive. Ruth Tracy wasn't fazed one bit, telling the aquanaut she wouldn't put up with it if he didn't wake up again. Once she got her grounding with her Grandson's (including the uninjured ones) she and Jeff disappeared for a long while. Sometimes Scott forgot that she had lost – or thought she'd lost – her son. Her _only_ son, at that. She busied herself with her Grandsons to hide her grief- but now she didn't need to do that any longer. Jeff no doubt needed that time with her too; Ruth Tracy was the best support system any of them could ask for.

That was proved by the time nightfall came. After a full day of hospital food and seating, she was determined to get them all out of there.

"The boys will still be here tomorrow," she insisted in that 'no nonsense' tone. "The rest of you need a good night sleep in proper beds. I've already booked a hotel, those nice security men offered to take me, so I'd like you to come too."

Scott had no intention of going with her, but made a good case in insisting it was a good idea for the others. Virgil was reluctant, but his utter exhaustion could no longer be kept at bay by coffee. In the end he didn't put up much of a fight, and neither did a yawning Alan. He kept telling Gordon he'd be back as soon as the sun was rising. Scott wanted Jeff to go too – he needed the most rest out of all of them. The only way he got out of going with Ruth was by promising to get more checkups by the doctors.

With trust in her son, Grandma Tracy had whisked the other two away, much to Scott's relief. He was glad they'd get to rest.

Jeff had made a great front of going to actually speak to one of the doctors, before sneaking back into Gordon's room once his mother had left. "Half a day with her and she's already on my case," he said fondly, returning to his normal position by Gordon's bed.

"Someone needs to be," Scott replied, half seriously. "Honestly father, I don't know how you're still standing. I'm sore and tired and I only got a couple of hits on me."

"Yeah well, maybe raising you boys put me through a lot more than you realise. I came out of the experience strong."

"'Out of the experience?' It's still happening as far as I'm aware."

"Oh yes, I'm going to have to start doing that again aren't I? Being a father."

Scott chuckled softly, but there was a hint of trepidation about his father's expression. "You're doing fine Dad; no one's expecting you to do anything, trust me. We're all just glad you're around."

"So am I…" Jeff muttered. Rubbing at his eyes he tried to suppress a yawn. It was surprising how waiting around could get so tiring.

Scott braved the question he had meant to ask all day. "Dad…we can't halt International Rescue for too long…you know that right?"

"Of course," Jeff replied quietly, but there was nothing decisive about his tone. "There are other people's lives in the balance."

"Exactly. So I was thinking that…once we see what Gordon's condition is…I guess I'd go back, maybe with Virgil. You could stay here…" Scott trailed off, not liking the sound of the idea.

Jeff didn't like the sound of it either. "No. I don't want to split up, not now. We go back to the Island together or not at all."

Scott bit back a frustrated reply. Gordon could take months to heal, more if it was serious. They couldn't exactly wait around the hospital for that amount of time…Perhaps Gordon could heal at the Island. But that wouldn't be fair to Virgil…Scott shook his head. They would figure it out when it came to it. For now, for this night, the world would be fine without International Rescue. Well, he hoped it would.

"Let's just try not to think about it now…" Jeff said softly. Those words were rarely uttered out of the mouth of a man that valued order and planning. But Scott understood how hard it was to look to the future when they were so stuck in the present; every hitch in Gordon's breathing making them only more alert to the situation.

A silence fell between them. Scott continued to watch his brothers breathing. It appeared to be becoming more erratic as time moved on, different from how peacefully he was sleeping beforehand. Jeff had noticed it too – one hand moving to Gordon's as he sensed what was about to happen.

Gordon's eyes flung open. Scott's surprise was dampened by apprehension, but nothing could reduce the overwhelming love he felt for his brother in that moment. Gordon _was_ fighting. He had opened his eyes again.

The aquanaut stared blankly upwards at the ceiling, eyes narrowing and widening as he went through the initial period of confusion and realization. Those brown eyes flickered sideways towards Scott and tried to absorb his appearance. Remembering Alan's words about happy moods, the eldest Tracy smiled at him.

Gordon didn't say anything. His eyes flickered in the other direction, now taking in Jeff. Jeff smiled too and squeezed his hand tightly. "Gordon…hey, you did it again!" Their father looked down at his hand as Gordon's fingers wiggled in his own.

Scott was practically ready to cheer so loud that the other end of the hospital could hear him. It was more than one finger now, it was all of them. On his other hand the aquanaut was wiggling them too. Scott's smile grew to be a genuine one. But Gordon didn't address this improvement at all, seemingly lost in thought.

"I…k-knocked all the stuff off your desk…" Gordon's words were hoarse, uttering the sentence apparently taking a lot out of him. He attempted to clear his throat but winced as he did so.

"What?" Jeff leant in closer to make sure he was hearing right. "What are you talking about love?"

"The stuff. Your desk. I knocked it." Gordon repeated breathily, closing his eyes. "Then I tried to put it all back on but I don't think I did it right. I messed it up."

"I…" Jeff shared a perplexed glance with Scott. The eldest had no idea what his brother was talking about, he was just glad he was talking. "I don't mind son. I'll fix it when we go back."

"That's why I had to get you…so you could fix it…" Gordon moved his gaze back to Scott. "You see why? So he could fix it. That's why I did it."

"Fix the desk Gordy?" Scott asked quietly, knowing fully well his brother didn't mean that at all.

Gordon's reply sounded so small. "Fix everything."

Jeff tried to hide the choking sound he made. He drew a hand across his mouth and sat back, looking at Gordon with a pained expression. "I'm afraid I'm not doing much of that at the moment."

"But you're here…" Gordon held his eyes closed, tapping his fingers on his father's palm.

Jeff nodded, brushing a stray hair away from his son's eyes. "Thanks to you."

"Thanks to me…" Gordon repeated vacantly, the idea not really processing. "Thanks to me…a lot of things went bad thanks to me. But I did this one right, didn't I? I couldn't let him take you away…I couldn't let you die…"

Scott could practically pin point the moment Jeff's heart broke at the comment. Their father had to take a second to steady his voice before answering. " _Nothing_ went bad because of you Gordon- _nothing._ It got worse because you left maybe, but doesn't that just prove how much your brothers needed you around?"

Gordon narrowed his eyes. "They…they won't need me anymore…they can't…" He glared down at his legs, his fingers dancing more wildly as it proved to still be the only movement he could muster. Frustrated tears sprung to his eyes again.

Scott cut in before another panic attack could be brought on. "Hey, _stop_ it." Scott folded his arms and made sure his brother could hear the authoritive tone in his words. "Remember our motto Gordon?"

"I remember not liking our motto."

"We take it slow and we don't give up."

"That was the _hydrofoil_ motto," Gordon hissed. "This isn't hydrofoil! I can't _take_ it. Not again, why did this happen? I don't understand!"

"The bullet caused micro fractures in your vertebrae; it might have triggered an old-"

" _No_ ," Gordon's voice was hostile and raspy. It didn't sound at all recognizable. "I don't want to know that. I want to know why I didn't _die._ I was supposed to _die_ ; it would have been fine if I died. But now I have to go through this… _again!"_ his voice broke and his hand began to shake. "I got Dad back! Why couldn't that have been enough?"

Scott reeled back, the comment sending shards of steel into his heart. Jeff had paled considerably- eyes searching for the boy he had left, the one that had been so full of life and optimism. He was nowhere to be seen now, but Scott knew he was still in there. " _Don't_ say that Gordon," Scott snapped, as sharply as intended. "You're an idiot if you think everything would have been fine if you died-"

"It's better than being paralyzed-"

"You're _not_ paralyzed-"

"I feel pretty freaking paralyzed _Scott,"_ Gordon's hands were now clenching into fists. Scott didn't have time to admire his range of movement in that department. "I can't even _feel_ my legs-"

"I'll help you. Like I did before."

"What's the point?" Gordon laughed this time. A cold, humorless laugh. "I'm no use to International Rescue anymore…if I was any use to begin with."

"Gordon!" Scott barked, every word tearing into his very soul. "You're not just a _part_ of International Rescue –I don't even care about that aspect at the moment. We don't only want you around because you can drive a sub. We want you because you're our _brother_ , a part of this _family._ "

"Sure. The brother that…that breaks things."

"No."

"That can't _help_ people."

" _No._ "

"That's a _burden_! Expendable…is that what he said? Was t-that true Dad?" the tears were flowing freely down Gordon's cheeks again and every second Scott just wanted to shake sense into him. He also wanted to yell at himself. How could Scott have let it get this bad? How could he have missed all the signs?

" _No._ " Jeff's fierce 'no' made Gordon freeze. He was clutching the sides of the chair tightly, eyes flickering with embers of rage. "Gordon…" he said slowly, words controlled with a tone that no one dared argue with. "I haven't been here son, so I don't know everything that's been going on. But you're saying that you break things? Well no, you've clearly been trying to draw this family back together. You say you can't help people? You freed me from the Hood, you saved Scott's _life._ You think you're expendable? Well you're damn wrong on that front too, boy."

Gordon's lip trembled but he didn't say anything.

"I know you think that you and I…that we aren't exactly similar. It doesn't mean I don't _love_ you, far from it. You're our 'sunshine baby'…that's what your mother used to call you."

Jeff placed a hand on the side of Gordon's face. His tone softened. "You think I'd survive without ever seeing that grin of yours again? I don't know what's put these ideas in your head – but paralyzed or not, we want you around. I thought you knew that?"

Gordon swallowed, expression twisting. "I couldn't make everyone happy – the only thing left I could do was g-go after you…"

"And you did that son, you found me."

"I…I didn't want to forget what you looked like…" Gordon whispered, words shifting from angry to vulnerable. "Sometimes I forget what mum looks like. I didn't want that to happen with you."

"Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore." Jeff hesitated for a moment. "When…when I was in that room, in the dark, alone…I'd remember those pictures that I have on my desk. I'd try to draw it in my mind, the exact details of them, yours was the easiest because your spirit is so vibrant in it…"

Gordon sniffed. "I thought…maybe you'd be forgetting me too."

"Never."

Scott's face crumpled in dismay as he realised Gordon had been carrying around that fear on his own. He never _told_ anyone that. Why didn't he _speak_ to Scott? Because he was too busy, that's why. Too busy trying to command, trying to do things efficiently…the others had been right all along… "I should have listened to you Gordy."

Gordon's eyes flickered back towards Scott's side. He frowned.

"You said I should stop trying to be like Dad, and you were right. I should have been your brother – and I should have listened to you. You were right to go in after that woman, you were right to challenge me, you were right to leave…I was terrible to you. I see that now, I'd do anything to go back and change that."

"No…you weren't…" Gordon blinked slowly, trying to pull back hazy memories. "You were just…trying to help."

"But we're all bad at that now and again, aren't we?"

Gordon's lip twitched. "I was horrible too. I said you were cold – that you didn't care. That's not true; I didn't mean any of those things."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

"I'm sorry I left without saying."

There was a significant pause as all of this sunk in. The various emotions that crossed Gordon's face were too fast to track. Scott wasn't sure how much of this he was taking to heart, but he hoped all of it. There was something else he had to take to heart too, "You know what you _weren't_ right in doing?" Scott glared at him. "Trying to sacrifice yourself for me. For all of us."

"But-"

"No, _no_ buts on that one. Seriously, once your better you and I are going to have a real talk about that move."

"…better..." Gordon muttered.

"Yeah _better._ " Scott screwed up his nose and nudged Gordon gently. "I don't care how long it takes; we'll get you back on your feet again."

Gordon rolled his eyes, but Scott saw something there, in his eyes. A flicker of life – of determination. "I remember last time. You're more grueling than any WASP commander I ever had."

"That was the point. I'll do it all again in a heartbeat Gordon, I swear."

Gordon paused. He studied Scott, _really_ studied him, finally taking in his words to be the truth. "I…I appreciate that. Honestly I do." Glancing around, the aquanaut apparently noticed the rest of the clan's absence. "Where…where is everybody?"

"Grandma took the others away," Scott said.

"Grandma!" Gordon's eyes brightened. Scott chuckled, relieved that enthusiasm was returning to his brother. Jeff was watching Gordon intently, like any small movement he made would signal something dramatic was about to happen.

"She'll be back in the morning with them."

"What about John?" Gordon's expression darkened. "I meant to ask about him before! Is he ok? Where is he? Is he hurt badly? Oh I'm such an idiot I didn't even-"

"He's alright," Jeff soothed, surprised at how worked up Gordon was getting over forgetting about his brother. "He's in another room, but he's fin…he's uh…sore."

"He shouldn't be alone," Gordon said quietly, closing his eyes as the effort of the conversation began to take its toll. "None of us should. I want…to see him…?"

"In the morning you can," Scott said softly. "Only if you promise to fight this."

"Hmm?" Gordon was drifting away again.

"Promise to work with me. I'll help you through it Gords, through everything. We'll all help."

A sleepy smile flickered onto the aquanauts face. Jeff made another noise, turning his face away from Scott. Scott gripped Gordon's hand. "I love you Gordy, remember that yeah?"

Gordon nodded before letting his head sink back into the pillows.

Scott and Jeff froze. Jeff's mouth curved into a smile. Scott reached a hand out to his brother's shoulder, overflowing with pride. "Did he just…?"

"Nod? I think so."

"Wow…" Scott shook his head in awe. This certainly wasn't the first time he was in awe of his youngest brother, and he knew it certainly wouldn't be the last. There wasn't a person on earth quite like Gordon Tracy- and Scott had never appreciated it more than he did then.

ooooo

Gordon woke to chattering. Lots of chattering. Lots of _annoying_ chattering.

They sounded like early morning birds, except far less pretty to listen too. Maybe if Virgil sung it would have sounded more like birdsong. If any of the others tried to sing it may have sounded more like dying birds. Basically, they were annoying.

But still, Gordon had never been more pleased to wake up. His throat hurt, his chest ached, his lungs barely wanted to breathe, and he still couldn't move his legs, but…all his brothers were there. He could hear them. Even John's light words floated in and out of his conscious. Jeff must have had him moved. Neither Jeff nor Grandma Tracy's presences were in the room, which scared him for a moment. But then he remembered a thing called breakfast, and that the two of them were probably having one.

This time when he woke, it was with a clearer mind, the side effects of whatever drug had been in him wearing off. At first, nobody noticed that his eyes had opened. Alan, Scott and Virgil were all crowded around John's bed, all holding a group of cards. John was holding some too – though looked less engaged than the others, probably because he'd already mathematically deciphered who was going to win.

"Hey – wasn't it my turn?" Alan was saying, bouncing up and down in his chair.

"Uh no I don't think so," Virgil muttered back, in deep thought about his next move.

"Just wait till next time," as always, Scott was on Virgil's side.

Gordon rolled his eyes. _Somebody_ had to stick up for Alan. "It was your turn Al. They're cheating you – I say take the money and run while you can."

Scott and Virgil whirled around. Alan gasped, promptly discarded all his cards across John's bed, before racing over to Gordon's bed. John looked neutral, as though he had known Gordon was awake all along.

Alan sat at the end of his brother's bed, making Gordon's entire form bounce up and down. "You're awake! Scott said you were up again last night. Why did you have to go and do that while I was away, huh?"

"I did it on purpose," Gordon said dryly.

"Rude."

"How are you feeling?" Scott attempted to look relaxed but failed. Gordon knew that he had freaked him out last night, both of them actually. Gordon had freaked him _self_ out. He knew all of those feelings had been there, he'd just never said them out loud before. There was something liberating about telling his father and brother…it made him think that perhaps he didn't have to work through it on his own after all. "Like I've been shot in the chest," Gordon said.

His older brothers weren't sure how to take that. Both Virgil and Scott were trying to read his expression. Was he going to have another meltdown? Was he joking? Should they be prepared with tissues and reassuring words?

"Hi John," Gordon ignored the worriers. "You're looking awfully –" he cleared his throat for dramatic emphasis, " _spaced_ out."

John's eyes sparkled. A half smile crept onto his face. "I would high-five you for that one but apparently you can't do that anymore."

Scott and Virgil both glared at the astronaut. Alan gasped and held his breath for some sort of explosive reaction. Much to his brother's surprise, a bubble of laughter escaped Gordon. Trust John to get straight to the point. "I can offer you a high-finger?"

John tilted his head, weighing up his options. "Yeah sure, it's better than nothing."

"You know…with all those bruises you're beginning to look like that galaxy of yours."

"Some of them resemble stars too. What's the scar? The milky way?"

"Sure. Hey I've got an idea – you should get your new scar tattooed into an outline of Thunderbird Five. That would look pretty spunky."

"First of all, did you just say _spunky?_ Second, that would be really effective on the security front I'm sure."

"Who knows, you might just be a really big fan."

"Hmm, ok I'll consider it, only if you get Thunderbird Four tattooed by the bullet hole."

"Deal. We'll get them together."

"Yeah, at least you won't be able to feel anything."

Gordon snorted and broke into a fully blown 'Gordon grin'. This had Scott and Virgil reluctantly smiling along, even though they weren't quite sure what was going on. "For your information John – I can feel my torso, just not my legs. But I'm working on it."

John nodded. "That's good then. You only need to use your upper body when driving 'Four anyway, you'll be sweet."

Gordon laughed again, re-establishing his love for John's sarcasm. Alan wasn't entirely following the fact that his older brother was joking, and was now confused as to whether he actually believed that or not.

"Seriously though, IR will need you back In 'Four." John's Segway to a more serious topic was too good for Gordon to get frustrated with him. "I'm not sure the marine life can stand much more of this lot gallivanting about."

"Hey, we only hit one shark," Scott defended, sending a wink in Gordon's direction.

"That's one too many buddy, in all my time driving her I've never hit any creature. Nor have I created a mini whirlpool, or failed to patch up a pipe-"

"Alright we get it, you're _amazing_ ," Alan hit him on the leg. Gordon felt a flicker of something, but wasn't sure if it was just his imagination. _Was that real? Did that hurt?_

"I may be amazing Alan-" Gordon teased, "But I am flawed. Like Virgil, I have crashed her into a sea cave."

"What?" Virgil spread his arms out in confusion. "You couldn't have told me that before? Jeez, I've been feeling bad about it too."

"Just as long as you learnt your lesson," Gordon wiggled his eyebrows. Virgil broke into a smile. "You know, when I _do_ get back, I should really train one of you better."

The fact that Gordon had said 'do' get back now had Scott joining in on the huge grinning session that was going on. "I would support that fully," the eldest said. "Just as long as you're not training me. No offence, I can't stand her."

"I barely fit…" Virgil muttered sheepishly.

Gordon laughed at that. "Alan it is then!"

"Hey," John protested. "Why do you all forget about me? I didn't have any accidents in 'Four."

"That's because you didn't _drive_ 'Four."

"Exactly, starting with a spotless record."

Gordon snorted. "So what, we'd rotate between space and deep sea every month?"

"Yeah sure, I'm keen."

"You hate the ocean."

"And you hate space."

"Hmm, seems doable."

Virgil held out his hands to stop them from continuing, though the glimmer of amusement in his eyes said he didn't mind. "Seriously Gords – we were a freaking mess without you."

Gordon smiled. It appeared Scott had spread the word on his state of mind. No wonder all of them were squished in there. "From the rescue stories, I can tell."

"No," Virgil shook his head. "I'm not even talking about International Rescue; I'm talking about _us_ in general."

" _Preach_ ," Alan closed his eyes and shuddered. "All I did was work for two weeks. It was horrible. I forgot what smiling was. They wouldn't feed me. I lost all concept of time and space-"

"I did alright." John said in all seriousness. At the glares he received from the others, he rolled his eyes and smiled. "Nah, I just had to listen to more arguing, and a whole lot of moping. You're my favourite remember? Looking down on earth was boring."

Gordon laughed at the disgust on John's face. The sound lit up the room, and Gordon was reminded how much he enjoyed his brothers company. It wasn't that he _forgot_ that he did – it was just different than lately. "Alright, alright I get it. You all _need_ me – trust me I had this talk last night-"

"We're all serious though Gordon," Scott reiterated. "You have no idea how important you are. I don't want you to ever forget that."

Gordon felt a warmth spread through his body as all his brothers looked at him with equally serious expressions. They all meant it, and they wanted him to know that. Well, it might take a while to process, but now he _did_ know, and it was a strangely freeing experience. It made him want to get up and start dancing – no, it made him want to _swim._ "I'll…I'll swim again, won't I guys? Don't let me give up on that."

"We couldn't keep you out of water if we tried," Virgil said softly, squeezing Gordon's shoulder.

Alan nodded, "yeah, you'll be out of here in no time chasing after another world record. Maybe we should enjoy the time while you're down to relax for a bit."

"Nothing stops you Gords, I think we know that by now," Scott's words were the most reassuring. By the strong look in his eye Gordon truly knew that he would be there for him every day if he asked. "If you don't try, we'll make you try. You got us Dad back, that's one step in the process of uniting the team again. Now we just need you back to full capacity too."

Well, who was Gordon to deny that; he couldn't exactly fight all four brothers on this. As much as everything hurt, and how muted he felt, the aquanaut knew there was no other option. It would take time to heal his body and mind – but that's what he had, time and patient supporters. If he had to go through it all again then so be it.

His family needed him. His family loved him. It was that simple reminder that would get Gordon going again – as it had been every other time. That notion never entirely disappeared; he just needed to be retold every now and again.

Gordon curled his toes in excitement. "Have I ever told you how much I love you guys?"

John groaned. Alan made a retching noise. Scott smiled knowingly. Virgil didn't say anything. He didn't do anything. He was just staring at Gordon's feet, brown eyes frozen in shock. "Uh Gords…do that again…"

Gordon felt a chill run through him. "D-do what? Virgil?"

"That-" Virgil pointed as the blanket by Gordon's feet moved. "You're moving it…aren't you? What are you doing?"

Gordon's mouth slipped open. He hadn't even realised he'd been doing it. Pulling back slightly, he curled his toes again, shifting the blankets. "I…I can move them! Virg, my toes, I can move them!"

Alan lifted the blanket to uncover Gordon's bare feet as he wriggled his toes. Scott let out a resounding cheer that seemed to fill the whole room with light. Virgil turned his back to Gordon and held one hand up to the wall to steady himself. His legs trembled for a moment before he turned back, eyes watery. "Don't _scare_ me like that Gordy – hell, I'm so glad."

Gordon grinned at him. He couldn't exactly make any large movements, and everything still felt horridly stiff and took a lot of effort to move. But this was a good starting place. No, it was a _great_ starting place. The relief that flooded him was nothing like he ever felt before. "You did good Virg…thank _you_."

Virgil nodded and sunk into his chair with relief. John was too caught up in the moment to even correct Gordon's grammar. They were _all_ relieved. It was funny how such a small movement could send five grown men into euphoric states of mind. Gordon felt out of breath by it all, but he felt a little bit of his sunshine return. The others were all smiling, he was smiling, and for the first time in a while Gordon knew his place in the family. It wasn't just as the swimmer, the aquanaut, or the joker. There was so much more to Gordon than that, and thankfully, his brothers knew that. His whole family knew that.

ooooo

John Tracy looked around the room and smiled. He was doing what he loved best: observing.

Things were shifting back into place. The balance was restoring itself, and there was nothing more pleasing than to watch that happen. John knew they had a long way to go – things were just getting started again. But the motion was in place, the healing process would move alongside it.

Grandma Tracy sat next to Virgil, her grandson content to just listen to her stories reminiscing about Jeff. His reappearance in her life had brought about a whole lot of confusing emotions – and to deal with that, she dove into memories, stories, and Virgil was the perfect person to listen to them.

Scott and Jeff were by one another's sides, deeply absorbed in a conversation. Whether it was about International Rescue, Jeff's crash, or Gordon- John wasn't really sure. But it didn't matter. Scott had his 'person' again.

Alan and Gordon were chattering away. Well – Alan was doing most of the talking, but Gordon interjected here and there. Every now and then the aquanaut would wriggle his feet, or his fingers, or even attempt to lift his elbow. Every time he did it a smile would burst onto his face. That smile would light up the room and – somehow - it was felt by everybody, even though they weren't directly aware of what was happening.

It was strange how that happened. How they were all linked even if they were unaware, or uninvolved. A single movement, a single shift out of place and they all came tumbling down. That's what John had learnt.

John was alone, but he didn't mind. He wasn't _really_ alone. He never was. Everybody was always there just as they were there now.

It would take time for things to revert back to normal. No doubt John would have nightmares for a long time, and Jeff would still be hesitant about talking to them, and Gordon would be wary about his importance... It wouldn't be easy for any of them.

But they were together.

Gordon had brought the team back together again, and that 'team' was determined to heal him. So they would do that. Then John would go back up to space and look down, happily knowing balance had been restored. Maybe from there he could get his peace and quiet. Who was he kidding, with Gordon back in action there would be no hope of peace and quiet. But for once, John didn't mind.

If it meant his brother was getting better, that his family was getting better, than perhaps a little noise was good once in a while.

ooooo

 _That's a wrap on this one! Thank you so so much for everyone's support and lovely reviews! To ScribeofRED, Peppermill, and Optimisticat - your constant support and detail has meant a lot. This story has been an absolute wonder to write – the boys have been stars considering what I put them through._

 _Really though, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I know it's not exactly the most conclusive of endings – there's so much more that I could write for ever, but it felt the right time to bring it to a close. As an introductory fic to the TB community you've all been super supportive and I've loved it, thanks again!_

 _-Spacespirit_


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